


know your song

by brandywine421



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, My Chemical Romance, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Group Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-01
Updated: 2012-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-30 11:34:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 80,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon goes on his mission trip, but finds himself on a new path after meeting Vicky T.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ratings/Warnings: NC-17, drugs, adult language, vandalism, etc. And sex.
> 
> Originally posted for 2010 Bandom Big Bang.

**-part one-**

***

Brendon snapped awake when his head lolled over to hit the bus window again.

Fuck, he was tired. No, wait, 'darn', he was tired. He had to stay in character. 

He hadn't ironed his slacks today but he honestly didn't give a 'darn' right now. 

He was tired. 

Up at 6:30 a.m. every day so he could read about Heavenly Father’s love and all the things he had to do to keep it. To stay pure and worthy. Then twelve hours of proselytizing about the Church of Latter Day Saints, spending every day with a companion who viewed everything Brendon did with suspicion. So far, they’d been harder to fool then the gentiles they witnessed to into believing that he still believed anything at all. 

He didn't know if he believed in anything at all, if he ever had. Maybe that was the problem. 

Yet here he was riding an empty greyhound to a little town outside of Boston so he could continue spreading the Mormon truth, even if he had to lie to do it. 

_"Are you excited about graduating early? You'll be done with your mission before you know it, we're so proud of you."_

Brendon shook off the memory, closing his eyes again. 

He started cataloging his flaws to prepare himself for the new guy who was going to be his constant companion for the next couple of months so they could monitor each other’s missions. 

He'd had to leave his guitar at home and pack two suitcases of 'suitable' clothes but by now all his white shirts were stained with sweat from walking everywhere. 

This shirt was a size too small and yellowed from bleach and there were a few dots of soup on the collar but it was buttoned up to the top and he tied his tie without opening his eyes. 

His pants were only frayed a little at the cuffs and he sighed when he thought about taking off his comfortable, (contraband) sneakers and putting on the mandatory polished dress shoes that crunched his baby toe and gave him blisters on his heel. 

His dark hair was an inch past protocol but he had it slicked back so he hoped he could get by a few more days without getting snipped again.

*** ***

_"Mom, can we talk about this? I'm gay, I like boys, I don't want to go on some stupid mission and..."_

_"Your mission is not stupid. You are a part of God's plan and it's your duty to serve him. Everything else can wait. God has chosen your path already, it's just your job to walk it."_

_"Mom - I'm not..."_

_"Your brother's bringing his luggage over, it's the suitcase he used on his mission, and your father's digging his White Bible out of the attic for you to carry with you. So you'll always know how proud we are of you for following the Lord's plan."_

*** ***

He sighed.

He fucking hated this so much, but it was his own fault, no matter how he looked at it. He was the one who had pussied out in the end, let his family persuade him. He had thought that coming out to them would be the end of any and all mission talk. Instead, it just made them more persistent. 

It had been easy when he was sneaking out of his window to smoke his friend Brent's cigarettes under the slide at the playground, when he had had permission to play the guitar and the piano and any other instrument that he could pass off as school related. They – and he – could pass it off a teenage rebellion. A cry for attention. 

It had been the other stuff – the things they had never talked about – that had been hard. 

He wasn’t supposed to think about sex, so when he’d found the Bon Jovi poster under his sister’s floorboard and masturbated to it, he’d told himself that it was wrong because he wasn’t supposed to touch himself. When it had happened again, he had tried to convince himself that it was because Jon Bon Jovi – with his long hair and his wide hips --- had looked like a girl. 

But when he’d gone to youth group later that night, when he’d sat on the edge of the group as always, and listened to the other boys talk in low whispers about pure thoughts and wet dreams and which girls wore the tightest sweaters; he’d known it was more than a lack of access to real porn that had sent him back to his sister’s room time and again. He hadn’t been thinking of breasts at all, or pussies, or anything else. He’d been thinking about the bulge in those leather pants, and how he would feel, kneeling in front of them. 

He’d thought about praying for it to go away, then and there, had half-formed a petition for prayer circle, but in the end, he’d found it easier to just stop believing instead. 

It had taken all the courage he'd saved up over the past eighteen years to tell his parents that he was gay that day, and they hadn’t even bothered to acknowledge it. It was as though it had never happened. Kyla said he was just trying to get out of going on his mission and his brothers had treated the announcement the way they usually treated his existence, by ignoring it. 

He should have made a stand, should have made them understand, but in the end, he didn't have enough courage to follow through.

He couldn’t bear to give the only people who could stand him a reason to hate him, too. It was easier to stop arguing, like it had been easier to stop believing. 

He just hadn’t thought that he'd be this trapped outside of his family's cocoon. 

His parents were, well -- his family -- so they had to love him. They were biased in his favor, at least he hoped. 

So far, none of his comps had felt the same. Apparently, sharing a religion they’d all been raised in – even if Brendon was pretty sure they could tell he wasn’t exactly Peter Priesthood -- wasn’t enough to overcome the fact that Brendon was, well, Brendon. Too much, as always. It was like high school all over again, except in high school he’d been able to be alone for more than twenty minutes a day. 

He'd always daydreamed about being an adult, about and what he'd scream at his parents when he stormed out of the house for the last time to live his “real life” after school. But when it had come time for him to man up and do it, he'd ducked his head instead and avoided an uncomfortable meeting with the bishop about his 'sinful thoughts' by promising the next two years to Heavenly Father. What the hell had been thinking? 

He jerked as he felt the bus slow underneath him, and the bus driver turned around to catch his eye. It was late, and the only other passenger had gotten off at the last stop. He’d sat close to the front, hoping to make conversation, but the driver had ignored him until now. 

"Hey, kid, I gotta make a quick stop at the next truck stop. Too much caffeine, you know?" the bus driver called over the dull roar of the engine. 

He didn't know. The only caffeine he'd ever had was in forbidden candies from school that he had never dared to take home and sips of sodas gifted to him by the band kids who’d been his only friends. But he didn’t say any of that. 

"Sure, man, no rush," he said instead.. 

The bus slowed further as it rolled down the exit ramp, pushing him to the side.

This was only to be his second stop on the detailed plan given to him by the mission president like it was some kind of fucking present. 

A curse was more like it. Only instead of becoming a frog or a beast or some other fairy-tale creature, he’d let himself be transformed into a good Mormon missionary. He'd taken it and committed himself to a life of lying instead of being an honest man who was allowed to be happy, all to please parents who would rather pretend beforetheir unforgiving God than let him tell the truth. .

He wasn't a bad person, not really. He'd never hurt anyone on purpose. He didn't want to now. But he'd hurt his parents telling them he was gay and he couldn't hurt them more by not going on the mission. So here he sat, on a dirty Greyhound bus in the middle of the night, bound for northwestern Massachusetts. 

The brakes let out a light squeal as the bus pulled into the bright parking lot. 

"We're about twenty minutes ahead of schedule, so get a soda or something if you want, I'll be back in ten," the bus driver said, hurrying down the stairs without turning off the headlights in his rush to the store. 

Brendon took a deep breath of the cool air when he walked down the stairs. In ten minutes, he could get back on the bus and finish this trip, end up in some small town with more small-minded companions who couldn’t stand him – even this fake version of him that he’d plastered on. Or he could walk away right now and forget about his family and his God and embrace everything about himself they said was evil. He could find out what it was like to kiss a boy -- hell, even a girl -- and he could have chocolate cake and listen to music, make music, that talked about things other than how amazing God was to let them all be drones for Him. 

The Vacancy sign from the motel across the street taunted him with flickering green light. 

He could walk away right now and start a new life.

He turned and stepped back onto the bus.

***

"Good afternoon, ma'am, has anyone ever spoken to you about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints?" Brendon asked, reciting the greeting he’d rehearsed and trying to make it sound like he cared.

"Hm. Mormon, huh? That could work," the lady said, smirking at him with her bright red mouth and studying him from head to toe. 

He looked at her tight black pants and red leather jacket that matched her lips and boots. She was gorgeous, in a totally non-Mormon way, especially considering that her charcoal-lined eyes seemed to be sizing him up as a meal. 

He wasn’t supposed to be alone with a woman, particularly a woman like this. He was supposed to call for his companion who was using a borrowed cell phone to make a clandestine phone call to his girlfriend back home at the end of the block. Instead, he waved and turned back to the doorway. . 

"Do you have a moment to hear the word?" Brendon asked. 

She stepped aside, waving him in with her arm. 

“Don’t you want to ask your friend to come along?” she asked. 

"It's against the rules, but do you mind if I don't? It's not like you aren't going to kick me out in ten minutes or less," Brendon said bluntly. “And he’s kind of busy right now.” 

The woman threw her head back, her dark hair bouncing on her shoulders as she laughed. 

"Kid, rules are for pussies."

He would have said 'amen' if he didn't think his companion's Mormon supersenses would bring him running. 

"You want a drink or something?” the girl – woman – said as they moved into the living room. “Sit down, take a load off or whatever." 

Brendon glanced around the living room of the house. The walls were painted a deep red and there were a couple of - wow - nude photos hanging on the wall where the lighting and shadows were so striking than he didn't even care about nudity. All he saw were the beautiful woman. There was a flatscreen TV and a collection of DVDs and CDs bigger than the whole of the library where he had once been allowed to check out approved materials from the Church collection. 

Then he remembered why he was there and sat down on the black leather couch. He wasn't here to get to know this woman and her apparently amazing taste, he was here to spread the Word. 

"My name's Vicky T,” the girl said as she sat down next to him, but not close enough to make him uncomfortable. More uncomfortable. “Aren't you a cute little missionary?"

Brendon raised an eyebrow. 

"Do you let a lot of missionaries into your home?" he asked after a moment. She didn’t seem like the type. Unless she was crazy. Lonely old people and crazies of all age seemed to be their usual hunting grounds. 

"My friends and I took a lot of religion courses in college and we're intrigued as to how literature written hundreds of years ago can control how people in modern day live their lives with expired rules," Vicky T said.

It was a good question. 

"How do you know they're expired rules?” he asked. “I mean, what if God told the people back then to write rules that were ageless?"

"Do you believe that?" she replied after a moment.

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Off the record, I don't believe any of this."

Vicky smiled, but it was obvious by her face that she was confused. 

"Then why are you knocking on doors trying to convince people of shit you don't believe yourself? I bet you have a really low conversion rate."

"We all have a really low conversion rate. I’m just more okay with it than the other guys. But I don't know anything else. Personally, I think they send guys off right after graduation to make sure they don't have a chance to be 'corrupted' by those pesky public-college girls," Brendon muttered. 

"I have to know more about this right now. About you, I mean. Do you have to date inside the church?" Vicky asked, leaning closer

"I thought you said you took classes," Brendon replied.

"Whatever, I was half-stoned most of the time. Also, you haven't looked at my tits once since you sat down. I’m just wondering how they train you to do that. "

Brendon blinked at her. 

He knew that he was breaking tons of rules, but he didn't expect her to bust out a comment like that. 

"I'm trying to be polite. I mean, they're very nice and all, but I'm not going to stare," Brendon said. 

"You want to hear my theory about you?" she asked, crossing her legs and leaning back. She flipped open a small silver cigarette case and offered him one. 

"Please, to both," he sighed, taking the thin cigarette, probably an import or something fancy. He half hoped that if his companion busted him he might get sent home for disciplinary action. 

"I think you're gay and I think you didn’t want to tell your family so you’re doing this instead so you don't lose them. You don't think you're going to hell, though – not really -- or you'd be trying a lot harder to sell me on this to keep yourself out of the fire," Vicky said once he'd lit his cigarette. 

Brendon inhaled to give himself a moment and instead nearly choked, but he recovered and managed to keep his cool, at least for a moment. 

“All that because I’m not acting like you’re my waitress at Hooters,” he said. 

Vicky shrugged. 

“I have a spectacular rack. People look. At least people who are interested in spectacular racks. I’m right, though, aren’t I? I also have spectacular intuition about people.” 

"Almost," he replied, after another inhale, not wanting to let this woman see him flinch. "I did tell them, right before I graduated. I figured it would be a one-way ticket out of the mission at least. And I almost thought they'd respect me for telling them the truth. But 'God has a path for me', and apparently I have to walk it before they'll even listen to me."

"So you are doing this just to please your parents? Why respect their wishes when they don't respect yours?" Vicky asked.

"Because they're my parents," Brendon replied. "My family."

"But you're eighteen. you don't have to listen to them anymore, you can do whatever you want. You don't have to make them happy." 

"You want to hear my theory about you?" Brendon asked. 

"Absolutely," Vicky smiled, amused. Brendon took another glance around the tastefully-furnished townhouse. 

"I think you're a spoiled little rich girl who never disappointed her parents because they were gone so much when you were growing up that they gave you anything you wanted when they were around. So you could see the only way they could show you that they loved you. Maybe they were divorced and you got double material love, but the point's the same, you never had to worry about them loving you because they've got years of guilt and sins of their own to make up for," Brendon said.

He expected her to react, but he didn't expect her to laugh with her whole body and move closer still on the couch. 

"I like you, you've got guts. But I don't see how you couldn't make a stand for yourself if you'll break your own rules and talk to me so openly."

"My family was everything to me for eighteen years. I don't know anything else. And if I leave the church, I’ll lose them and I'll hurt them. And I don’t know which is worse. I owe them everything. I mean, how can hurt the people that changed my diaper and made sure I was healthy and kept me alive until I was old enough to do it myself?" Brendon replied.

"They did all that so you could do it yourself. They weren't loaning you love, you don't have a debt to pay them. It doesn't work like that. You can't make rules for how to love someone, it's inexplicable. A parent's love for a child shouldn't have anything to do with rules," Vicky said. "The only thing a parent should want for their kid is for their kid to be happy."

"Or for their kid to go to heaven. I won't get to go to heaven if I'm gay, that's what they believe. They think they're trying to save my soul. That's more important than happiness," Brendon said. 

"To them. Not to you," Vicky said. 

"Easy for you to say, hard to actually put into practice," Brendon snorted.

"Come on, I want to show you something," Vicky said, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet. 

He followed her because, really, he'd broken enough rules already to make it a moot point. And she was really cool, in her own twisted way.

She opened a door and flipped on a light switch to reveal a small guest room with a double bed and tiny attached bathroom. 

"Uh, you have a guest room. Congratulations?" Brendon said.

"I know you came here to invite me to sign on to worship whatever God you have in your bag of propaganda, but I'd like to turn the tables. You stay here instead, and let me and my friends teach you about what we worship," Vicky said, smiling wickedly.

"And what's that?" Brendon asked. He couldn't help thinking that he was acting out a bad video like the ones he'd watched in youth group. The ones that always ended up with the Mormon boy in his position burning in hellfire. 

"We worship life, knowledge. We aren't ready to declare our eternal service to anyone when we haven't seen all the options. You've given LDS eighteen years, how much more do you need to give to know if it’s what you want?" she asked. 

"So you do this a lot," Brendon asked, processing her words without meaning to. “Kidnap missionaries off the street and corrupt them.” 

"Well, it is a little hobby of ours. We don't usually offer room and board, but I'm asking a lot of you so I want you to know I'm not going to leave you hanging," Vicky said. 

Brendon turned to her, stunned. "A hobby? This is a game to you, making people doubt their faith? Asking me to give up everything in my life for – what? Your amusement?"

She reached out and out a hand on his arm. 

"No,” she said, and she sounded so scandalized that Brendon wanted to believe her. “No, it’s not like that. We just ask people to think about what they’re doing. Really think about it. Ryland got a Jehovah's witness to go back to his Jewish girlfriend. And Alex got a Methodist to profess his love to his Goth crush. Nate almost had an Amish kid, but he decided to go back to his family after his year was up. Amish at least give their kids a year on the outside," Vicky replied, her eyes wistful.

"This isn't a game. This is my life," Brendon said.

"Exactly. It is your life. Do you really want to live the rest of it praying to a God you don't believe in? Marrying a woman and raising your kids to be miserable, too?" Vicky countered. 

"I don't even know you," Brendon said.

"Do you know that guy waiting for you down the street any better? I know this is a huge thing for you, but I promise that I'll take care of you. I'm a damned good teacher and you have that look about you like you want to learn," Vicky replied. 

Brendon glanced around the room, feeling his insanity level rising as he actually considered her words. He had a flash of the vacancy sign from the highway motel. 

Did he need another sign that this was a crossroads?

What if a higher power was guiding his path?

Or what if Satan was tempting him from the true God's path?

He glimpsed the guitar in the far corner and his mind shut off all the cosmic questions at once.  
"Is that a Fender Strat?"

Vicky laughed softly. "Yeah, it's my friend's. Do you play?"

"Never an electric. Always wanted to," Brendon said. 

"He's got the amp right now, but I can get him to bring it over. If you want to hang out, that is. You can leave whenever you get tired of us. But I think it would be really cool if you stayed," Vicky said. 

"I think it's really shitty that you think 'converting me' to debauchery is a game," Brendon repeated, but he couldn’t stop staring at the guitar. There was no music on the mission. Maybe this was his sign. 

"The way you look at that guitar doesn't make me take anything I've said back. You know it's not evil. And you know there's a lot to see out htere that will make you happier than anything you'll see if you stay on the road you're on," Vicky replied. Brendon turned back to her, as she continued. "I'm not always going to be right, I accept that. But I'm also not going to ask you to accept the same things I do. I'm just offering because I like seeing people open their minds and make choices based on intellect and experience instead of just doing what they were told."

"Damn the man, save the empire," Brendon muttered, remembering a movie he'd watched in Brent's basement when they were supposed to be practicing their speeches for Civics in his sophomore year.

"What do you say? Want to play on our side for a while so you can stop being scared of the dark?" Vicky asked, putting her hand on his back. He could feel her long sculpted nails through his thin shirt. 

He'd told his parents he was gay. Leaving the church couldn't be harder than that. Maybe they'd have to acknowledge it if he stopped negating his own beliefs to please them. 

"You got a phone I can use?” Brendon asked. “I have a calling card.”

"Are you calling the cops?" 

Brendon took a deep breath. 

"No, I'm calling the local bishop to tell him I'm not continuing my mission."

"Hell, yeah. You want me to go tell the guy waiting for you?"

Brendon shook his head. 

"He took my favorite red Converse last night. Let him sit out there all day. But I will need my stuff eventually, I guess."  
In fact, he didn’t actually care about anything except the sneakers, which Jimmy had declared contraband and thrown away. Something must have shown on his face, because Vicky laughed again. 

"Fuck your stuff, then, too. They can mail it to you whenever because we're going out as soon as you make your calls to get you some better clothes, at least. Use the landline. I'm using my cell to call my friends."

"I don't want to take your money," Brendon protested. “I don’t need you to do that.”

She rolled her eyes. "You're not taking it, I'm giving it to you. Mormons do know what gifts are, right? Besides, you can make it up to me. I mean, you can do laundry and stuff, right?"

"I am familiar with those machines used to wash garments, yes," he snorted. She grinned at him in return. 

"We are going to have a lot of fun," she said.

He felt lighter for a moment and clung to that feeling as she gave him a quick hug and took his hand again to lead him to a phone.

*** ***

_"Mom?"_

_"No, Brendon, this is Bishop Jenkins. Have you changed your decision to abandon your mission?"_

_"No. Can I talk to my Mom? Why are you at my house?"_

_"I came to offer my support to your parents. And to try to convince you to return to your service. We can get you help with understanding your sinful urges..."_

_"Can I please talk to my mother?"_

_"I'm sorry, Brendon. I don't think you should speak with them under the circumstances. We are going to be praying for you in this difficult time."_

*** ***

He was oddly comfortable in the tiny jeans that Vicky had loaned him out of her closet, and now he didn't have to worry about what the people at church would say about the way his ass looked hot in girl jeans. Her purple Keds were worn more toward the heel than his favorite lost pair but his toes appreciated the room.

"You look good. You okay?" Vicky asked, examining him in the mirror and folding down the collar of the navy blue men's dress shirt she'd found. 

It wasn't pressed and had slight fold lines from being in a drawer and he nodded, feeling the soft cuffs with his fingertips. 

"Yeah."

"Do you want to tell me what your parents said?" Vicky T asked.

"I didn't talk to them," Brendon answered. He didn't want to talk about it, but he needed to. Honesty was something new he was going to try as a rule and not a recommendation. "I called the local guy first, and then my companion before I called them. And the Bishop lives across the street and he's the one that answered the phone. He speaks for them."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"What did you think would happen? I knew what I was doing. I knew it would suck. But it's done and . . . it's the bed I made," Brendon said.

"It's going to be our bed," Vicky said, putting her hands on his shoulders and squeezing as he blinked at her statement. "Not like that, perv -- not yet, anyway -- but I got you into this, so I'm going to keep your head so far above water you'll forget how to swim."

"You're not as scary as you look," Brendon said. 

"That's because I like you. And you're one of those people that can see through the masks, even if you can't take yours off just yet," Vicky said. "Now, run your hands through your hair and make it look like you've just been fucked."

Brendon blushed again and she laughed, but not unkindly. 

"It's not funny,” he said. “It's sad in the real world, right? Eighteen and still pure for marriage."

"It's sweet, actually. And you've got to learn not to be ashamed of anything. Confidence will get you everywhere. Confidence redefines fear, Brenny, and you don't have to follow anybody else's rules out here. Well, bestiality is still frowned upon, but you can always dress up, if you're into that, and the federal rules of murder and rape are, sort of default..."

"Should I take notes?" he asked, interrupting. . "I'm really bad at taking notes."

"Let's head to the shop so we can come up with a lesson plan," Vicky smiled. 

"What shop?" Brendon asked, relaxing enough to put his arm around her. He tried not think about tethering himself to the stranger that had convinced him to give up everything that he’d learned about right and wrong. Not that it had taken much convincing, really. 

"My friend Ryland owns a coffee shop. He gets bored easily and thinks it's going to fill some weird need to experience employment. He's richer than I am, and I'm pretty fucking rich. He doesn't get much business because he chases people away if they don't appreciate the gourmet coffee and snacks," she said. 

"That's not really nice," Brendon said. 

She shrugged. "Being nice isn't as much fun as being elitist. Since he's doing it for the fuck of it, he thinks of it as a place to hang out with friends and sometimes serve coffee to people that want it."

"I won't judge until I see it for myself, I guess," Brendon said. 

"You're going to love them. You don't put up with bullshit and they're going to throw it at you from every direction, so you just throw it right back," Vicky said, her boots clicking on the sidewalk as they reached her sleek black sports car. She held out her keys. "You want to drive it?"

It was a gesture of trust, one he wasn't used to.

"I'm not here to babysit you. We're friends, so there's got to be some trust. You trusted me enough to ditch the Mormon thing for a while so I'm trying to make it balanced," she said. 

He took the keys. 

"Sweet." The last car he’d been allowed to drive had been a leg in his parent’s purple minivan on the way to the M.T.E. He grinned despite his nerves. 

"A smile, I like it," she said. 

"Thanks, I hope to do it more often. This is a nice car," he said, unlocking the doors. 

"Hell yes. My daddy loves me," she said.

Brendon busied himself adjusting the leather seats and mirrors but turned to her when she had folded herself comfortably into the passenger side. 

"Do you talk to them much?"

"I love my parents, but I don't really love them as much if they're around. Mom's a model so she only really cares about how I look and our definitions of hot are a little different. And Dad's a drummer for this rock band and has a different girlfriend every visit. When they started being younger than me -- well, we like each other a lot more when we don't see each other very often," she said.

"Everybody's family is different. Shows love in different ways, I guess. Just saying the words doesn't make it true," Brendon said. "I guess that's the whole point of a mission for LDS -- just praying and saying that you believe in God doesn't mean anything if you don't show him with good works."

"Living a good life doesn't do that for him?" Vicky asked as he pulled out smoothly into traffic

"I don't know," Brendon said. "We had this really short chapter in history about different religions -- it's the only research I ever had permission to do outside of seminary -- and none of them really gave me the idea of an all-loving God. If he loves everyone, like most of them say, why doesn't he hold us all to the same standards? No pork, no beef, no chocolate, what the fuck? Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He trailed off, embarrassed and tried to focus on shifting the gears. 

"Keep going," Vicky said. "Don’t stop on my account. Bitching is my number one hobby." 

"I don't think I believe in God. He's a theory, not a fact and I don't think I believe in him," Brendon said, his knuckles white. All this time, he’d told himself it was easier not believing, but he’d promised himself honesty now, if nothing else. He grimaced. "Is there a lightning bolt headed for my newly atheist face?"

"No, kid,” Viky answered, after scanning the sky as though he’d been serious. “Just agnostic. That’s what’ the 'think' and 'believe' bits mean. You'd just say "there's no God' or 'I don't believe,' if you were really an atheist. It's like, there's a yes, no and maybe when it comes to that mythical bearded man in the sky hanging out with the flying naked babies."

"The blasphemy tingles my ears," Brendon laughed, and slowed down to catch a yellow light as he realized he had no idea where they were.

"Take a left there and park at the traffic cone, it's reserved for us," Vicky said.

"That's so wrong. So far, I totally disapprove," Brendon said, only half joking. 

"Pick your battles, grasshopper," she laughed. "Breaking traffic laws really isn't going to matter if there's ever a Judgment Day, or nobody would have a chance."

"Except for people who didn't drive cars. Maybe they're God's real chosen people," Brendon said, parking the car neatly between the cones and patting he steering wheel out of respect for such a good drive.

"Yeah, even if it was that easy to please God, I'd still drive," Vicky said. "Especially this car. Come on, you're going to get the best coffee you can buy legally and meet my boys."

Brendon moved the gearshift into place and locked the car, passing the keys back to Vicky, then jumping as someone moved from the doorway to hug Vicky from behind. He was tall, with shaggy hair and a loose, faded t-shirt and ankle boots over his tight jeans. Brendon couldn’t see his eyes behind his mirrored sunglasses. 

"So, this is the new recruit. Interesting choice, Victoria," he said. 

"Brendon, this is Ryland, the stupidest genius I've ever had the pleasure to know," Vicky said, turning her head so he could kiss both of her cheeks with dramatic mwah's.

"Brendon, hm? Come in and meet the rest of our merry crew," Ryland said, tilting his sunglasses down to show his eyes twinkling with mischief. "And you can tell us all about the story of you."

Brendon trailed the two friends into the coffee shop and was immediately impressed. He'd never been in a place like it before. The windows were tinted and the hanging light fixtures reflected off the hardwood floors, giving the whole place a warm and inviting glow. 

There were stools around the carved cherry counter and overstuffed tan couches positioned around the room with equally elaborate coffee tables stacked with books and chess sets.

"Say it! You have to say it or I'm going to choke you out," a man with square black glasses said, crouched over the back of a smaller man and pinning him to the floor by holding his arms behind his back.

"Fuck you!" the smaller man replied.

Brendon glanced at Vicky but she was talking to Ryland and didn't seem to care. 

"I warned you..." the guy with glasses said, and pulled the other man’s trapped arms up higher. 

"Fine, Fine!,” the pinned guy yelled. “Alex Suarez is the king and high ruler of Awesome forever and ever!" 

"Come on, Ryland's bringing you a sampler," Vicky said, taking his hand easily and pulling him over to the panting guys as though there was nothing unusual about the sight in front of them. In fact, she addressed the guy with glasses with a familiar, put-upon sigh. 

"What's the debate today?" she asked. 

"He lost at checkers again," the guy said to her, then swiveled his gaze over to Brendon, holding out his hand. Brendon took it and heaved him to his feet, then accepted a handshake. 

"Alex Suarez," The guy said with a tiny bow. 

"Brendon," he answered. "Nice to meet you, King of Awesome."

Alex laughed brightly, clapping him on the back. "Thank you, I may consider giving you a knighthood.” He looked down again with a grin and kicked the other, still-prostrate man with his toe. “This loser is Nate and he will never be more than a lowly serving boy."

"Fuck you," Nate said again and rolled over, greeting Brendon with a head-to-toe glance and a distracted wave "Hey, are you wearing Vicky's pants?"

"Yeah. I kind of left everything else behind," Brendon said. 

Alex nodded and brushed off his clothes absently before wandering over to a vacant couch. Brendon reached down and offered his hand to Nate, who took it, springing to his feet with an easy grace. 

“Yeah, Vicky sort of mentioned . . .” he said, then trailed off as Vicky wrinkled her nose and pushed them both over towards the seating area. Brendon chose one of the armchairs and let Vicky and Nate crowded Alex on the couch. 

"So Vicky said you're LDS -- Mormon?" Alex asked him once Brendon sat down. 

"I was until a few hours ago.” It still seemed surreal that it was still the same day. By now, he should be returning to the apartment with Elder Jim, taking his turn at preparing macaroni and hot dogs and preparing for evening study. “Not that it matters. Vicky says you guys like to derail religion whenever you can," Brendon said. 

"Ouch,” Alex said, touching his heart as though he’d been wounded. “We just like helping the lost -- just like the Mormons. But you're found now, right?”

Brendon shrugged. He felt lost and found, all at the same time, but it was hard to explain. 

“Why'd you decide to take Vicky's crazy offer?" Nate asked.

"When am I going to get another offer like this? Free ticket to sin or enlightenment, you know?" Brendon replied. 

"We prefer a nice mixture of both," Ryland smiled, putting a tray of steaming cups down on the table before perching on the arm of the chair across from Brendon. They were the only people in the coffee shop now. 

"Okay, so now that Vicky's rescued you from religion for a while, what are you looking to learn?" Nate pressed. 

"I was thinking about taking him shopping and showing him off at the Viking tonight," Vicky said.

"I didn't ask you," Nate said, elbowing her.

"Yeah, you're not his boss, he can do what he wants and he's probably been traveling a while," Alex said.

"I'm right here,” Brendon reminded them, and sat back in his chair. “Yeah, I've been on the road for a while. I should still be knocking on doors right now, but I don't want to wait. I don’t really have anything so I do need to go shopping, and to clean out my account before my parents freeze it."

Ryland nodded and slid into the chair properly. 

"So – shopping spree aside -- in your wildest dreams, what would you want to be doing? I mean, you have to have thought about it -- what you'd do without their rules," Ryland said. 

Brendon closed his eyes and breathed in the coffee's aroma. "I...I'd eat a bag of Skittles and play whatever I wanted on the piano. And I'd try that weed that my friend smoked with me on the band trip in tenth grade. And I'd drink hot chocolate."

"Well, I guess we've got plans tonight, you're coming to my house," Alex grinned. 

Brendon opened his eyes and saw Vicky smiling at him fondly. He steadied himself and leaned forward to pick up a cup and bring it to his nose to sniff. 

"Good job, treat it like a fine wine," Ryland said.. 

"Nectar of our gods," Nate added.

Brendon took a sip and frowned. "Needs sugar or cream or something. That's not delicious." 

Ryland frowned but Vicky was laughing. "See, Ryland, not everyone agrees with you that coffee is best served black. Get him some stuff so he won't hate on our coffee."

"Don't worry, he's the only one that drinks it that way," Alex said.. "What's the real story, kid? Not everyone will just leave everything they know to hang out with Vicky T, no matter how hot she is."

"Honestly? I guess...I'm tired of pretending. Pretending to believe, pretending to understand. I don't believe and I don't understand and I don't think I ever will, no matter how hard I try," Brendon said. "I can't change who I am, and if I'm lying about it to fit in I'm still a sinner, you know? There's, really, no way for me to pass holy inspection."

Alex studied him from across the polished coffe table. Brendon resisted the urge to drop his head. "What are you lying about?"

"Ease up, Suarez, don't scare our new pupil away," Ryland said. 

Brendon shrugged and picked up one of the cups in front of him, to keep his hands from fidgeting. Well, fidgeting more. 

"No, it's okay, I guess. It’s -- I'm gay. And I've known for a while, and I never got busted or anything, but I promised myself I'd tell my parents before I graduated. And I did, I sat them down and told them I loved them and that I liked boys. And it was like talking to a wall. They wouldn't discuss it; my dad just said he'd pray for me on my journey and my mom said that I was being silly and needed to use this time to grow up," Brendon said. 

"Wow,” Alex said. “Okay, but after that, you still went on your mission?" 

"I didn't know what else to do. What else could I do? I love them, you know? And their way of life...it's all I really know about life in general. I didn't know how to start from scratch."

"That's why we're adopting him," Vicky said with a firm nod. But she caught Brendon’s eye and smiled at him.

"You are fucking adorable. We're going to glam you out and make all the boys want you, then" Ryland said. 

Brendon smiled despite his drooping mood. 

"Cheer up, you're about to have more fun than you ever even knew existed," Nate added, and tossed one of the couch’s throw pillows at Brendon’s head.

***

Alex's house was twice the size of Vicky's and had a music room like something out of a magazine.

He sat down at the grand piano and wondered if he could just live in this room from now on. No mission, no outside world, nothing to come between him and the music. 

His new 'mentors' joined him, carrying ashtrays and guitars and even a pair of drumsticks, but once his fingers touched the smooth keys of the piano, he was settled with his decision. He tuned out their laughter and closed his eyes, letting his mind clear before playing the first song that came into his head. 

He didn't remember the name of it, even, he just knew he had always loved the way that it sounded under his hands. It was the piece his music teacher had wanted him to play at the school recital the year his parents made him give up the piano after one too many missed seminary meetings.. 

"Wow, Brenny, that's fucking great," Vicky said when he played the last note, breaking through his momentary trance. 

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Ryland asked. 

"I took music in school for a while until my parents thought it was taking my attention away from more important things," he said. "But music, I always thought it was one of my important things. I guess, I mean if you have a piano, you must like music, right? Do you guys go to concerts?"

"Hell yes. We have VIP passes for all the local clubs," Alex said. "We like to support any and all musicians that are playing for a living."

"I always wanted to go to concerts. I only got to listen to the radio if I was riding with someone outside of the church, or borrowing someone's iPod. I want to hear everything now, this time with the curse words included," Brendon said. 

"Oh, we've so got this," Nate said, walking in from the kitchen. "Once Vicky gets you hooked up, we're taking you everywhere with us."

"First things first. You just had your piano time, and you had hot chocolate at the shop, so have a seat with us and share the peace pipe in celebration of your induction into our Royal Court of Awesome," Alex said, patting a pillow in the floor. 

He sat down and Vicky nudged him over on the pillow so they could share. 

"Remember, if you cough - that means you're doing it right," Nate said. 

Brendon wasn't sure how the 'bong' worked, but he watched Vicky closely as she put her mouth over the top of the purple glass and lit the bowl until the inside was thick with smoke. She pulled the slide out and cleared it, letting the smoke drift from her nostrils as she smiled and blew a smoke ring at him. 

He imitated her, trying to pace himself since he had no real idea what he was doing, but he choked halfway through his attempt and Ryland had to take the bong from him before he made a mess . 

His eyes were watering when recovered and he was flushed hot. 

"Good?" Vicky asked.

"Ask me after the next one," Brendon replied. 

He was lightheaded and slow, but he felt...okay. He might be okay. 

It was a weird feeling.

He'd never been free to the point of having no standards to live up to other than his own. 

He might be able to do this.

After a couple,more-successful attempts at the bong, he ended up lying with his head in Vicky's lap and his legs stretched across Alex and Ryland's as they all sprawled across the floor. 

He felt better -- safer – about his his admissions to these people who were still practically strangers when they started to confide in him about their families and their own complicated personal histories. 

Vicky and Ryland had grown up together at the same boarding school and Alex and Nate met them in college at a rave. Ryland's mom had overdosed in the Eighties and his father had gone through three new wives before Ryland had graduated from junior high. Nate hadn't seen his parents in over two years but still got an allowance of thirty grand a month to tide him over until he got his full trust fund when he turned twenty five. 

Alex had the closest history to his own, as the sixth child in a big family. But his family was made of rotating parents and various step and half siblings in exotic and scattered homes around the world. So even it wasn't that close.

"So, Brenny, how about tomorrow, after I get you looking hot, we go out for a good dinner and then show you how to work a club?" Vicky offered.

"I'm only nineteen," Brendon replied. "I don’t think I’m going to get in. But that sounds awesome. I've never been to a real club."

"Anything else real you’ve been missing out on?" Nate asked. “You know, real?” He gave Brendon a huge, exaggerated wink that was impossible to mistake. 

"He doesn't have to tell us that," Ryland protested, but Brendon just shrugged

"It doesn't matter. I'm about as inexperienced as you can get. I mean, I've done some reading and watched some movies, but I don't really know how it works, or feels. I haven't even had my first kiss yet," Brendon admitted. 

"It's like riding a bike. You just need some instruction – and some training wheels. We can be your training wheels," Alex said. 

"We'll keep the skeeves off you.Well, the skeeves you don't know anyway. We know Vicky here has a thing for good boys," Ryland said.

"Hey, you were my first, loser.So much for the good boys. You just wish you could hit this again," Vicky snorted. 

Brendon glanced between them, fascinated. They didn’t seem at all phased by the conversation.

"How old were you guys?" Brendon asked.

"What were we, Vicks -- fourteen?” Ryland asked, then looked over to Brendon, shaking his head. “It was horrible." he added.. 

"Thanks," Vicky laughed, but she rolled over until she was sitting next to Ryland, petting his hair. "Seriously, though, it really was awful. He had onions on his breath from lunch and it took us half an hour to figure out how to work the condom."

"And she hadn’t shaved and her legs were all prickly and her pussy had this weird taste," Ryland added. 

Brendon wrinkled his nose and Vicky laughed, tapping his nose. "You get used to it, get over it. But it was a learning experience."

"My sister’s babysitter taught me,” Nate said, still cradling the bong. “She talked me through it step by step when I was fifteen and then ratted me out to my dad. Good thing he was impressed," 

"Stepbrother for me," Alex said. "I was fifteen, too, he was twenty-one and staying at our place in Tossa de Mar with us on his way to Ibiza. I see him with his wife and kids these days and it makes it feel like it was all in my imagination, but I still have the scar on my shoulder from when he bit me when he came."

"None of this sounds very encouraging," Brendon said. In fact, he was starting to think the whole “no sex before marriage” thing might just be a safety precaution. Otherwise, who in their right minds would want to do it again? Something must have showed on his face, because they all burst into laughter around him. 

“Don’t worry. It almost always gets better with practice,” Ryland said solemnly, then collapsed in giggles against Vicky again. 

"Baby steps, Brenny,” she said, elbowing Ryland until he was draped more comfortably on her lap. “We'll get you laid. But first, we've got to assimilate you into the good life," Vicky said. 

"Sit up, we can start now," Alex said, sitting up at the same time he was tugging Brendon upright. "You want to get your first kiss out of the way right now?"

"It is always good to start with friends. They don't usually laugh at you," Nate said.

Brendon wasn't sure, in fact, but it wasn’t like he had anything left to lose at this point. He shrugged.

"Back off, Suarez, I'm lead on this," Vicky said, sitting up, too, and knocking Ryland off her lap. "I want it to be me."

"I feel so popular," Brendon said, but it made him smile..

"Enjoy it. Vicky doesn't put out for just anyone," Ryland said sagely from his position crumpled on the floor. 

Brendon shifted to face her. "Okay, then -- tell me what to do."

"Do what feels natural. Kissing's different for everyone, so just copy me to start and then find your way. You'll know what's right for you, and I'll let you know if it's wrong for me," Vicky said. She reached over and grasped his chin, pulling him in closer.

He opened his mouth when he could feel her breath against his lips, and felt the soft pressure of her against him, even with his eyes closed.

She tasted like coffee and weed -- like he probably did, too -- and her tongue felt strange in his mouth. After a minute, though, it started to feel less strange and more wonderful, and he shifted to get a better angle. 

"Mikey, I think he likes it," one of the guys said. Brendon couldn’t be bothered to figure out who, but Vicky pushed gently at his shoulder, breaking them apart. 

"I think you guys are the devil,” Brendon said after his took a breath. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.“I can't tell if you're making fun of me to my face right now, or saving up to make fun of me later behind my back." 

"If you were hanging out with anyone else, they probably would be making fun of you. That’s not how we roll, though. You're just not used to us yet," Alex said. "Here, we'll play spin the bottle instead, how's that? That way we all have to make out with somebody in public."

"Ooh, we haven't done that in weeks," Vicky said, bumping shoulders with Brendon and turning him to finish the circle her friends were forming. "I love watching boys make out."

"I thought girls thought that was gross," Brendon said. Vicky laughed. 

"Not this girl." 

"Kissing's different with every person," Nate said. "At least it is for me."

"I wait for the other person to French me before I do it back. Polite, you know?" Ryland said.

Brendon felt better that they were trying to make him more comfortable and turned back to Vicky. "Let me practice again before we start. Was it bad?"

"A little hesitant, but not too bad. Not too wet, either. Usually you _want_ to kiss the person, though, so it's easier," Vicky smiled. "It's supposed to be fun."

"It's generally foreplay, right?" Brendon asked. Every lesson he’d ever had about marriage had made at least a cursory mention of foreplay. It hadn’t sounded like this much fun, though. 

"Sometimes. But you definitely don't fuck everyone you kiss. Consider it a litmus test of sexual chemistry, instead," Alex said. 

"Yeah, it’s like with food -- you wouldn't eat a whole plate of something if you didn't taste it first," Ryland added.

It made sense.

"It also sort of works when you're kissing a straight boy. Or a boy who’s maybe protesting a little too much how straight he is. You can tell how much he might want to go to the next step by how he kisses you. And if he kisses you in the first place, he’s probably not that straight. But that's something that you’ll have to learn with practice and we don't want you getting that much practice at first. It should be special every time and all that," Alex added, almost as an afterthought. 

"I really _should_ be taking notes," Brendon said. 

"Practice first," Vicky said, and leaned over to kiss him again. 

Her lips were really soft and it wasn't as weird this time to push his tongue against hers. He put his hand on the back of her neck, her skin warm behind the soft umbrella of her hair. 

When she pulled away, she was smiling widely. "That was definitely better. You're a fast learner."

"Maybe you're just a good teacher," Brendon said. 

"Can it be my turn now?" Alex asked. 

Brendon blushed. He was looking forward to Alex's turn, he couldn’t lie, and it made his stomach feel kind of fluttery that Alex was looking forward to kissing him, too.

"No, let Ryland do it first, so he can get a walk on the mostly-straight side," Vicky said. 

"Hah," Ryland stuck his tongue out at Alex and moved over to sit in front of Brendon. 

"Isn't there a bottle involved in this somehow?" Brendon asked. 

"Rules suck," Nate snorted. 

"We'll get a list of pick up lines for you when you're ready, too," Ryland said, looking him up and down in a considering way. Brendon liked Ryland okay so far, but this felt a little more like a science project. He wasn't sure how their kiss would go. 

Ryland’s five o'clock shadow was rough against Brendon’s cheek and when he pressed harder against Brendon’s mouth Brendon remembered what Ryland had said about Frenching and pulled back to laugh. 

"Sorry,” he said, wiping his mouth again to cover his laughter at Ryland’s disgruntled face. “Sorry, I was just being polite."

"Sure you're not taking notes?" Ryland said as he moved his mobile face back into a smile. Brendon shook his head, and Ryland clapped his hands briskly, like a gym teacher or something. "Okay, then, Nate's turn next. We’ll save the best for last, and Alex can try to work his magic on you."

Nate scrambled up onto his knees in front of Brendon and was kissing him before Brendon could really register what had happened. Nate tasted sour and slightly antiseptic and Brendon pulled away with a frown. 

"What did you eat?" he blurted out. 

"Oh, shit. Sorry - I had some tequila shots, my bad," Nate apologized. 

"Alcohol's a totally different lesson," Ryland scolded him. “Don’t skip ahead in the curriculum.” 

Alex rolled his eyes as the two started to slap at each other ineffectually. He took Brendon’s arm and pulled him back over to one of the floor pillows. He settled Brendon onto his lap so that they were sitting face to face, sliding an arm behind Brendon’s back to pull him closer. 

"Hi,” he said softly. No one was really paying attention to them anymore as Vicky tried to break up the escalating slap fight, and it felt weirdly intimate all of the sudden.

"Hi,” Brendon answered, feeling shy. “I guess it's your turn now." 

"Finally. I'm going to make you forget about all these amateurs," Alex said, taking Brendon’s bottom lip between his teeth before turning his head to take possession of Brendon's whole mouth. 

Brendon was nervous at first, trying to put into practice what he'd just learned, , but as Alex let him take the lead he slowly relaxed, giving into the 'sin' and exploring Alex's mouth just because it had started to feel good.

He was starting to feel really good when Alex put his hand on Brendon’s chest and pushed him away after a few minutes, panting. 

"Whoa. Okay, we have to pause before this gets embarrassing."

"Sorry," Brendon said immediately, but Alex was shaking his head and shifting under him and Brendon realized that Alex was definitely hard. He'd never been so close to another guy's hard on before and he extricated himself from Alex’s lap to climb back to Vicky's side, grateful that he'd managed to keep his own erection subdued by boxer briefs and tight pants.

"Are you ready to run back home yet?" Vicky asked. Her voice was teasing, but she was searching his face carefully. 

"I figure if lightning hasn't struck me yet, I think I'll ride it out," Brendon said, touching his swollen lips. Weird.

*** ***

_"Why are you doing this? Do you know how upset Mom and Dad are?"_

_"They won't even talk to me! The Bishop keeps answering the phone!"_

_"Brendon, you've made your point, you've got their attention - it's time to stop being a brat and come home and fix this."_

_"What point do you think I'm making Kara?"_

_"You're eighteen, a big man or whatever. You've taken it too far."_

_"That's not the reason. The reason is that I don't believe I'm going to hell because I like boys. I don't think I'm going to hell if I want to have fun and don't follow rules I don't believe in. Mom and Dad raised us to be honest, and I'm being completely honest."_

_"I don't think you should call anymore until you come to your senses. We love you, Brendon, but we won't support this decision."_

*** ***

Brendon blinked, trying to get used to the weird feeling of the contact lenses in his eyes.

His parents had never judged contacts as 'necessary' when they could get cheap plastic frames. Brendon was notoriously hard on his glasses.

"Feel okay?" Vicky asked, tilting her head at him in the mirror. "I can see. Weird," Brendon said, raising his newly-manicured nails to his newly-styled hair. He hadn’t even known boys could get real manicures. 

Everything about him was new. New shirt, new jeans, new shoes and socks.

"What?" Vicky asked. 

"I don't even look like the same guy. I look...cool," Brendon said. "I don't really believe it." He reached over and tapped his reflection in the mirror. 

They were sitting at one of the examination tables in the back room of the optometrist’s. He didn’t know if he was still covered under his parents’ insurance, but it didn’t seem to matter. Like everything else that day, Vicky just slid a black credit card over the table to the doctor with a smile. He was pretty sure there was no way he could ever pay her back, but she didn’t seem to care. 

"Jesus, you're adorable. And now you're hot, too. Come on, we have more stores to visit. You need accessories, and Alex is meeting us at the coffee shop in an hour for approval and planning for tonight," Vicky said.

"What kind of planning?" Brendon asked. They didn't seem like the type of guys to make plans. 

"It's all about image. No matter how shallow that sounds, it's true," Vicky said. “We want to make sure we’ve got your image campaign ready to go.”

"Confidence, Chapter One, I remember," Brendon said. They’d fallen on his Missionary Guide with a kind of deranged glee when they’d found it in his coat pocket last night and had taken to naming each of his new “lessons” in its honor. 

"Exactly. So when we go out -- if we're not all looking to get laid -- we stick together. We know who's not drinking that night, who's got the keys,who's got the condoms -- stuff like that. And on special occasions, like tonight, we might even coordinate our outfits. It’s a sign for people not to fuck with us because we're a group," Vicky said. 

"And it works?" Brendon asked.

"Not really,” Vicky admitted with a shrug. “But it's fun and we look hot, so there’s that.”

"Sounds like it would bring you more attention than it keeps away," Brendon said.

"Maybe we haven't gotten to that lesson yet. Don't read ahead," Vicky scolded with a laugh. 

He picked up the bags from the floor and followed her out of the store. 

"I meant to thank you. I mean, I do thank you, for all of this. For everything. But I meant to say thanks for last night, too. Or whatever,” Brendon said haltingly as they stepped back out into the gleaming mall corridor.

"Really? I thought maybe we freaked you out," Vicky said.

"At first, yeah. But...I think it's good. I mean, I learned that sex was wrong outside of the marriage bed. Which kind of sucked for me since gays can't get married," Brendon said. 

He was more comfortable with Vicky in the two days he'd known her than he'd ever been with a woman before. Something about her made it easy to talk about these things. Maybe it was the fact that she was letting him talk while tugging him forward to continue window shopping while he stumbled over his words, nodding in all the right places, but giving him some breathing room instead of making him look her in the eye. 

"It's just cool to see people not freak out over sex and innuendo and all that,” he continued as Vicky made a face at a pair of heels in the window in front of them. “I hope I can learn how not to freak out, too," Brendon said. 

Vicky nodded and moved them further down the mall, seemingly with a destination in mind. 

"If you wanted, Alex and I could help you in other ways. We're not pervs, I swear, but we're both consenting adults, and if – you know -- you wanted to consent, we could show you some stuff," Vicky said. She stopped in front of Auntie Anne’s and turned to face him for the first time. “In bed.”

"You sound like a fortune cookie. I hope that’s not one of the pick-up lines you guys are planning to teach me," Brendon replied, trying to hiding his surprise at her statement with an uneasy laugh. She looked at him seriously, though, and shook her head. 

"No, it would just be between us,” she said. “Well, various combinations of us. Look, Ryland and I experimented together, and I think it was better for us because we got all the fumbling and the mistakes out of the way and the only people we embarrassed were each other. We got to seem all cool with our “real” boyfriends and girlfriends – all these people that seemed like they already knew what they were doing,” she said. She looked down at her newly-polished nails like she wanted to take a bite, then ran them through her own newly-styled hair instead. It was the first time that Brendon had seen her look at all uncomfortable. “Yeah, it's really fucked up, but you're eighteen and most of the guys that will hit on you will probably be way more experienced than you. At least in the circles we run in. And I want you to be able to know what you like and don't like, and to keep you from anyone wanting to take advantage of. . .of your inexperience, I guess. God, I'm twisted, right?"

Brendon took a chance, and reached out to pat her awkwardly on the shoulder. She relaxed immediately under his touch, and that – more than anything – made him think that she really might be telling the truth. 

"Yeah, you really are,” he said with a grin, and she nudged at him with her shoulder, wrinkling her nose. “But...I'm game, in theory. I just want to be able to bail out if it's too weird." 

"Absolutely,” she agreed without even taking a breath. “You set the rules, Brenny. We’ll even set you up with a safe word and stuff – not that we’d planned to get to _those_ kind of lessons for a long while. But just in general, we want this to be good for you, to feel safe to you. Just let me know how and when you want to do anything. You can be in charge.”

Brendon shrugged, and moved the shopping bags from hand to hand. 

"Maybe not entirely in charge,” he said. “Maybe I could just, like, pick from the menu or something?”

She laughed in a short, surprised burst. 

“I knew I didn’t underestimate you,” she said. “I always do know how to pick ‘em.”

“I know I should be easing into all this, or following the bases or whatever they call it, but it's like -- I've wasted so much time already. I feel like I need to learn and do as much as I can before... before it goes all bad. again. Or boring again, I guess. Not so much all bad," Brendon said. 

Vicky nodded again and grinned. 

"Never boring with us, I promise. But I get it, I do. Just let me know if it gets too weird," Vicky said, “or if we start moving too fast for you.” 

"I will. But I'm really excited about tonight, about going out. Even if it's just to hear the music and the lights and see all the other people being naughty," Brendon said. 

Vicky laughed again with relief and reached out to link her arm through one of his. 

"We’ll make sure you get a chance to be naughty, too. You’ll see -- you're going to blow them all out of the water. We're going to make everybody jealous," Vicky said. “God, I need some sugar. Or a cigarette. Want to get a pretzel before we go on?” Brendon nodded. As soon as she mentioned it, it sounded terrific. “C’mon, you can practice your confidence on the Auntie Anne’s girl.”

Brendon followed her over to the kiosk, glad for a moment that would have seemed normal in his old life before he followed her into next store and let her continue making him her personal Barbie doll -- or Ken doll, whatever. Until he was one of the normal people.

*** ***

They didn't have time to take their stuff back to her house, but when they stopped by the coffee shop Ryland closed up and Vicky made Brendon show off each of his outfits to him with a flourish.

He saw Vicky and Alex talking quietly by the door while Ryland was making him taste the day's special, some kind of Chai tea that was supposed to 'ease the weariest soul.’

He, wasn’t entirely sure it was working, because when Alex winked at him and hurried out of the shop, he had a flutter of anticipation.

He was wobbling a little without the rules and expectations of the church to guide him along, but he was having a lot of fun following his carnal instincts. 

"All right, boys, Brendon and I have an afternoon of privacy planned but we'll meet at Alex's at eleven sharp and Nate's the driver," Vicky said, coming over to join them at the counter. 

"But Brendon was going to play Xbox with us," Nate protested.

"Another day," Brendon said with a smile, picking up his bags and following Vicky out of the shop. He waited until he was in the car to ask her what their plans were.

“Um, what exactly does this afternoon of privacy involve?” he asked as he settled himself into the passenger seat. 

"First, you're going to take a bath, get yourself all cleaned up and smelling pretty. Then Alex and I are going to give you your first lesson. Alex calls it “cleaning your pipes before being around a bunch of hotties’," Vicky said.

Brendon couldn't hide his blush but he hoped his stirring erection wasn't as obvious as he shifted on the seat.

"I thought you were going to teach me to dance or something." 

Vicky shrugged as they turned into traffic. 

"If that's what you want," Vicky said. “I told you we’d let you be in charge.” .

Brendon held up his hands in protest, but he couldn’t quite look her in the eye. 

"No, , I'm good. In theory," Brendon said. 

"It'll be fun, I promise,” Vicky said with a grin as she accelerated around a stopped UPS truck. “And just to be clear up front, Alex and I are already sleeping together and we're not sleeping with anyone else but you. But the first rule of having casual sex is protection. Never put your dick anywhere without putting on a condom, and don't let anyone put their dick in you without one. Even us. Consider it the first commandment." 

"So...are you guys swingers?" Brendon asked.

"Not usually, no. We're monogamous, sort of, but he's more like my backup guy. If we're both single and horny at the same time, we get together. I mean, I love all the guys, but I'm not in love with any of them. But Alex and I have chemistry."

"I guess -- I'm considering this training, so special circumstances. But I don't plan on fucking anyone that I'm not, like, dating in the future.. But petting and kissing and -- other stuff -- that should be allowed before boyfriend status, right?” He suspected that the old rules of group dates and ‘nothing under the sweater’ weren’t going to get him very far even if he wasn’t driving back towards what sounded like a threesome. “I'm trying to make new rules for myself. How do those sound?"

"Good, definitely. No one-night stands for you as long as we're around. At least not at first. We're not your parents, but we are here to be your buffer," Vicky said, parking the car behind Alex's on the curb in front of her townhouse. 

He had a rush of panic as Vicky turned the engine off at the idea that everything he was doing was wrong wrong wrong.He had always done what was right and so far it had gotten him nowhere but - what if he was giving up too easily? What if this really wasn’t what he wanted after all. 

Vicky looked over at him, her door open and one foot already on the street. 

“Hey, hey are you okay?” she asked, twisting so that she could lay a hand on his arm. “Don’t freak out. Breathe. Seriously, if you don’t want anything to happen, it won’t. I promise,” 

Brendon nodded, but he still couldn’t quite bring himself to look at her. He took a deep breath and tried again, and when he met her eyes, she smiled. 

“No, it’s good. I’m ready,” he said. 

They were all consenting adults, he reminded himself. They weren't hurting anyone and the only people they had to answer to were themselves.

He wasn't doing anything wrong.

"Let's go put your stuff away then," Vicky said, snapping him out of his paralysis. t. 

He snapped his seatbelt off and slid out of the car before he could change his mind.

*** ***

Alex was sitting on the couch with a small black bag, smiling, when they walked into the living room.

"Hey, guys, good timing,” he said, and Brendon took an involuntary step back, half-hiding behind Vicky. He felt ridiculous. So far, Alex had been nothing but nice to him. ”Hey, Brendon. You look like a whole new man. Not that I didn’t think the dripdry shirt wasn’t sexy . . . 

"You're pretty eager, it's kind of creeping him out," Vicky said, reaching behind her to pull him to her side. 

"It's either flattering or creepy, I don’t know which. I just sort of wanted to take a shower or whatever before we got started with – whatever we’re about to get started with,” Brendon said. ," Brendon said.

Alex stood up from the couch, walked over and kissed him softly. 

"Relax,” he said when they broke apart, reaching down to take Brendon’s hand. “You're in charge. Take your time, Vicky and I can hang out and if you don't want to do anything, we won't."

"You guys are the worst influences ever. I'll be back. Or...you could meet me in there," Brendon said, failing to hide his blush.

“In the shower?” Alex asked. Brendon’s eyes widened. He hadn’t even thought that could be a possibility. Alex smiled as soon as he looked at Brendon’s face and dropped his hand, taking a step back. "In your room, maybe, instead?"

"Yeah. Lesson One in Sex Ed, right?" Brendon said, his voice only trembling at the end. 

“Or you could skip the shower and we could just get started,” Vicky said, leaning over to nuzzle against his neck. “I’m just thinking -- if we do it right -- we’re just going to get you dirty all over. Wouldn’t want you to get dry skin, after all, and Alex can put up with both of us smelling like the mall.” 

"What do you say we all sit down and relax for a sec," Alex said, laughing. "I think you’re first instinct was right. We’re freaking him out.” He linked his arms through Brendon and Vicky’s and tugged them towards the couch. “C’mon, we’ll just make out for a while. We'll stick to over the clothes stuff, and practice your kissing."

"Okay," Brendon said, relaxing, and let himself be led. "Yeah, that’s good. Like, I don't know what to do with my hands or anything, and last night was – well, I could use some more practice"

"To each his own, but we'll go slowly for you," Alex said. 

Brendon sat down on the black leather couch that had gotten him into all this sin in the first place – barely 48 hours ago -- and Vicky and Alex sat down on each side of him. 

Vicky took his face in her hands and he moved in to kiss her, mapping her mouth and responding to her passion with his own, feeling his cock already, just from the pressure of her mouth. He’d never thought he’d want to kiss a girl, not really, but Vicky was apparently going to be the exception to a lot of things in his life. 

"See her nipples getting hard?" Alex asked, his voice husky as , he moved behind them.He shifted so that Brendon was settled between his spread legs and reached out around Brendon so that he could cup Vicky’s breasts in his hands. . After a minutes, Alex moved a hand to grasp one of Brendon’s nipples through the thin cotton of his new shirt, and Brendon let out an accidental moan when his dick jumped in response. Alex used his other hand to turn Brendon’s head until he broke off the kiss with Vicky to let Alex ngulf his mouth, sucking out what little breath he'd managed to take.

Vicky took Brendon's hand at the same time and moved it under her skirt until his fingers were pressed against damp, hot, silk. 

"See how wet I am? How hard you are?" she whispered, running her other hand up his thigh to press against his hard-on.  
"All this is allowed, but not recommended in public," Brendon murmured, turning his face into Alex's shoulder and moving his free hand behind him to find Alex's tented crotch. 

"What?" Alex whispered, half-laughing, then gasping when Brendon’s fingers hit home

"He's making his own rules of conduct," Vicky said. Brendon could feel both of them under his hands, hot and eager, and he wasn’t sure where to look or what to move next. 

"I think this may fall under an amendment concerning overstimulation," Brendon said finally, laughing himself. 

"You want to take this any further?" Alex asked, shifting under Brendon’s hand. “We can do this all afternoon, it’s fine, but if this is all we’re going to do, I’m going to have to take a break, just like the other night, okay?” 

"I want...maybe...more touching," Brendon managed. "Less clothes...you first..."

"You're so fucking hot, kid, and if this is going to send us all to hell, it's still fucking worth it," Vicky said, standing up and stripping out of her top and underwear without missing a beat, as if she was worried Brendon might change his mind. 

Alex stood up, too, and moved over to her, leaving Brendon to stretch out on the couch and watch them above him, adjusting himself to try to stop from coming in his pants before anyone touched him again.  
"She's gorgeous," Alex said, kissing Vicky hard enough to make her eyelids flutter and her chest turn red between her breasts as he ran his hands down her sides to curl around her hips. 

Vicky peeled off Alex's shirt, undoing a few buttons before pulling it over his head before tugging his pants and underwear down with one swift motion. 

His cock was thick, but shorter than Brendon had expected, and Brendon had to put his hand on his dick and squeeze before he lost it. He’d never seen another boy naked before, not one that he was allowed to look at without fear or hesitation. 

They turned to him at the same time and Brendon felt a shudder of arousal that made him bite his lip. 

"You're so cheating," Vicky said with a sly grin, straddling him on the couch and gingerly unzipping his jeans while Alex pushed up Brendon’s shirt and lowered his mouth to Brendon’s nipples. 

"Not cheating...learning...fuck..." Brendon panted when Vicky's fingers found his cock and freed it from his boxers. 

"So hard .. you make me so hard.Can I -- shit, Brenny, can I?" Alex whispered between kisses across Brendon’s chest and down to his bellybutton. 

Vicky was teasing him, brushing her fingers over his balls, and he tried to find his voice. 

"What do you want, Brendon?" Alex asked.

"Want to touch you...see how you feel, how hard you are..." Brendon breathed. 

Alex mewled a little under his breath and took Brendon's hand to wrap his fingers around Alex’s already-rigid dick. It throbbed in his hand and Brendon rubbed his thumb over the leaking tip and squeezed, trying to judge Alex's reaction. 

"That's hot," Vicky laughed roughly, looking down. Her face was burning red.

Alex was thrusting up into his hand and he kept his fist tight enough to be able to tell when Alex was about to go off, but he wasn't prepared for the loud grunt and hot rush of come across his arm. 

Brendon couldn't believe he'd done that for someone else and he looked up at Vicky. Her eyes were heavy lidded and she had a hand between her legs. "Vicky, do you want . . . can we?" 

"Alex, give us a rubber and let's see if this little stud can keep this going, because, fuck, Brenny, I figured you'd be spent after being sexually denied so long," Vicky said.

"Masturbation is totally a top-two hobby of LDS youth," Brendon laughed. "It’s a little-known fact. But I'm really fucking close, I just...want to know how it would be to be inside you."

"Goddammit, you're hot, ," Alex whispered, taking Brendon's cock in his hand and rolling a condom onto it with thick fingers. He wrapped his hand loosely around Brendon’s sheathed dick after, and bent to lick the come off Brendon's arm to clean him. 

"Don't get all porny," Vicky said, interrupting as Brendon and Alex started to get into it again. "I want to get off, too."

"Okay, show me," Brendon said. Vicky shifted so that she was kneeling up in front of him, her sweaty legs were arched over his cock, still pulsing in Alex's hand. 

"Let her get a little bit closer, and then hold your breath when you push in, it'll be tight and it'll feel amazing and just let it be like that for a minute before you let her move," Alex whispered in his ear. 

He closed his eyes and felt the pressure of Vicky against him for a moment before the head of his cock broke through. 

"God..." he groaned, his hips bucking up instinctively and making her gasp. 

"Close?" Alex asked, kissing down his neck to his collarbone and sucking a bruise as Vicky raised herself, sending shockwaves down his dick that were only shattered by her taking him fully inside her again.

"So close...what do I do now? I can't...I'm so close, you're so tight and..." Brendon choked out, struggling to keep himself from coming immediately. 

She slammed herself down on his cock again, following her own rhythm now, and bent down to kiss him, rolling her hips to grind herself on his dick. 

She pushed his hair back with of her hands until he opened his eyes to look at her and the look in her eyes finally popped the cap and he shuddered inside her. 

Vicky was shaking on top of him and kissing him and he wondered when she'd gotten off. 

"I think you definitely are your way to passing this class with flying colors," Alex said. 

"What do you say about a group shower and then a fat joint?" Vicky asked, running her fingers through his hair tenderly. 

"I don't know if I can even move," Brendon said. "But I think I like lesson one."

"Do you feel like a man now?" Alex asked. 

"I don't feel much different inside. But I know I want to do that again," Brendon asked. 

Vicky laughed and kissed him again.

*** ***

"Just one, okay? So make it last before you start getting water," Vicky said, putting the fruity drink in his hand and plucking the toothpick umbrella out to place it behind his ear.

Brendon was still lazy from the aftereffects of the sex and the pot but he was already having a good time in the vibrant, thumping club. Alex was keeping him close with an arm around his shoulders but it was nice. Ryland and Nate were holding court a couple of stools away with a few scantily dressed girls all with the same cherry red lipstick. 

"Who's your friend, Suarez?" a tall, blond man asked, leaning in close and undressing Brendon with his eyes, licking his lips. 

"Back off, Billy boy, he's off limits," Vicky said, cutting off the from the predatory man.

Brendon wasn't sure he wouldn't enjoy being his prey one night, though. 

"Pity. Suarez, come shake that pretty ass with me," the guy said, pulling Alex off his stool and into the ocean of people. 

Vicky moved the vacated stool closer to Brendon and sat down, intertwining their legs. 

"How're you doing?"

"This is great. I've had more fun in the past thirty-six hours than I've ever had in my life. Who's that guy?" he asked. “And why is he off limits?” 

"That's William, he's an automatic veto at this stage of your education," Vicky said. "He'll fuck anyone he can get into the car at last call."

"Good to know," Brendon said. 

A couple of girls in sparkly dresses and unsafe high heels came over to chat with Vicky about people Brendon didn't know and he took the time to study the people passing by them in the flashing lights. 

He felt someone's eyes on him and saw a guy standing by the end of the bar leaning against the fire extinguisher with thin fingers wrapped around a glass of dark liquor.. 

He was dressed in black and his long bangs shielded his face, but Brendon didn’t think he had imagined imagining the stare. 

He kept glancing over and finally glimpsed the shine of the guy’s eyes, smiling when he pushed his hair aside to show his face. 

Nice. 

"Hey, you want to dance?" Vicky asked.

"I think I want to go talk to that guy," Brendon said. Vicky followed his gaze, amused. 

"Already? You sure?"

"Maybe. I have the rules -- I'm just talking and I already have a drink," Brendon said. "Go dance." She kissed him on the lips and patted his leg. 

"Good luck. Don't get lost."

He lost his courage when he was alone on the stool and he took a couple of swallows of his drink to try and remember what the fuck he was doing here. 

"Hey."

Brendon jumped a little and flushed when he realized it was the guy from the end of the bar. "Hey. You scared me."

The guy smiled a little, butit looked out of place on his face. He had a pretty face. Serene, but with boiling eyes. 

"Sorry. Haven't seen you around here before," the guy said.

"So, you come here a lot?" Brendon asked, wincing when he heard how it came out. 

"Not really. But seems like a good idea tonight. I'm Gerard."

"Brendon. I'm staying with Vicky T," Brendon said.

Gerard nodded, his face thoughtful. 

"She's kind of a barracuda," Gerard said.

"Yeah, she's awesome," Brendon said. 

Gerard looked surprised at that, but he reached over and rubbed his fingers down the sleeve of the button-down Vicky had picked out for Brendon earlier that day.

"Hey, Brenny, making friends?" 

Gerard dropped his hand back to his side as Alex slid onto the empty stool next to Brendon and stretched his arm around Brendon’s shoulders. 

"Not anymore, I guess," Brendon replied, rolling his eyes.

"This is the cockblocking lesson," Alex whispered. 

"Can I give you my number? Maybe I can show you around," Gerard said, glancing at Alex curiously. “Since you’re new in town.” 

"Yeah, that'd be nice," Brendon said. He didn't see where the pen came from but he had a number on a damp napkin and giddy bubbles in his stomach when Gerard smiled at him and walked away. 

"First night out and you're getting numbers," Alex said, laughing.

"I want you to teach me how to have that. I want that," Brendon said, looking after Gerard.

"So you're still up for lessons, even after today?" Alex asked. 

"I need many more lessons if they can get me to do stuff like that with him," Brendon said. "You have to teach me how to give blow jobs."

Alex's eyes went wide and Brendon laughed.

*** ***

The next couple of weeks went by too fast to be real and Brendon started to think he was in some kind of coma dream. Or maybe a spirit walk..

Maybe the Matrix. That had been one of the movies on Ryland's 'day of learning,' when they'd mainlined R-rated movies and YouTube clips and Ryland had taught Brendon the amazing power of Itunes. 

He hadn't taken the earbuds from his new iPod out of his ears – except to shower -- shower since he got it. 

His new friends didn't leave him much time to think, dragging him around town to experience as much as he could. 

He wondered if they were secretly the 'Make A Wish Foundation' for the hellbound.

He spent some days on the roof of Ryland's coffee shop learning how to play hacky-sack and listening to music with Nate and Alex, until his skin was tanner than ever before. Ryland came over with boxes of books and movies and CDs and a list of deadlines for 'getting some culture'. 

Most of his days were spent inside Ryland's shop, though -- reading or people watching by the window. And he played guitar whenever he got distracted, sometimes mimicking the new songs he'd been hearing or strumming something he'd heard Ryland play. 

But his nights were spent with Vicky and Alex. 

They said he had a beautiful mouth. And if the way he sucked Alex's cock was anything like the way Vicky and Alex sucked his, he hoped he'd be good enough at it to get a boyfriend of his own to practice on. 

He knew how to use lube now, how to prepare a partner with his fingers before pushing inside. And he knew how to relax his muscles when Alex or Vicky were getting him ready for penetration.

He liked sex. Lots more than he'd ever liked church. 

It wasn't the same, though. He couldn't put faith in just physical gratification.

He could put his faith in how good music made him feel, in how many things now made him happy that he'd once missed out on. 

He was trying to go on without religion, but he wanted to find a new kind of faith.. 

He thought about Gerard a lot, too, and that night at the bar, but he’d never gotten the nerve up to call him. 

So when he looked up from Ryland’s copy of On the Road and saw Gerard walk into the coffee shop and over Ryland, he immediately felt guilty..

But Gerard had probably had forgotten all about him, Brendon assumed, right up until he walked across the store to stand in front of Brendon’s couch. 

"Hi, again," Gerard said, glancing at him through his shaggy hair and pulling up a chair. 

"Hi. How are you?"

"Alive," Gerard said.

Interesting answer. "Always a good thing. Sorry I didn't call."

"Are you dating Suarez? Or Vicky? Or both?" Gerard asked. Brendon ignored the way Ryland's head snapped over in their direction, suspicion sparking on his face.

"No, they're my friends. My mentors, I guess," Brendon said. There wasn't really another way to describe them.

"Mentors at what?" Gerard asked.

"Life," he said with a shrug. 

"You don't need mentors for that," Gerard said.

"No, but it's easier for me. I defected from a sheltered life. They're giving me the balls to stick to my decision," Brendon said. 

Gerard nodded, his eyes scanning Brendon again. Brendon was glad that he had decided to dress decently, even if he was wearing his glasses. 

"Is that your guitar?" Gerard asked. 

"Yeah," Brendon said, picking up his favorite gift from Vicky from beside him on the couch to cradle it in his arms. "Why?"

"Because I want you to come home with me and play it. And tell me everything there is to know about you," Gerard said after a long moment.

"Why?" Brendon asked. The guy hadn't heard him play and he wasn't sure if this even counted as a conversation.

"Because I think you're amazing. And I want to know what it is that makes me want you so bad," Gerard said. 

"Oh," Brendon replied. Gerard wanted him? Brendon didn't know what it was supposed to be like if his crush returned his feelings.

"We don't have to do anything. I just want to talk to you," Gerard said, studying him again. 

Brendon thought about it. He didn't have to do anything. But he was intrigued by this man dressed in black with the face of an angel and the eyes of a demon. He'd never been...sought out before. 

"Let me get my coat and tell Ryland," Brendon said.

His heart was pounding in his chest, but he tried to remember Vicky's lessons. Confidence beat fear like rock beat scissors. He could do this. 

He was new all over. He could go on a date and be normal. This was what he'd walked away from his past for -- he freedom of choosing who to love. Or who to date, anyway. This was his chance to prove to himself that he could be on his own and not fuck up. That he wouldn't prove his parents right; that he could be a good person and be gay, too.

It was just a date. 

Ryland was waiting for him behind the counter, eyebrow raised suspiciously. 

"No cockblocking, I totally got this," Brendon said under his breath.

"Uh huh. Rules?" Ryland countered.

"Use a condom, don't do kink on the first date and bring a bottled soda. And answer if one of you texts me," Brendon replied, ticking off each number on a finger. 

Ryland smiled. "You learn well, little Padawan. Have fun."

Brendon hoped he could get his stomach out of his throat long enough to actually do that.

*** *** ***

 _"Hey, Mom and Dad. It's Brendon. I know I'm not supposed to call, I just...wanted to talk to you. To try and explain. Just because I made this choice doesn't mean I want to lose you guys. I wish it didn't have to be this way. I wish I meant as much to you as you mean to me."_

*** *** ***


	2. Two

**part two**

***

"This is your house? Way Manor? Sounds fancy," Brendon said, his anxiety reaching critical mass after the winding walk down the streets. This was the furthest he’d been from Vicky’s house on his own. 

"It's not. My brother thought it would be funny to put up a sign. I haven't bothered to take it down," Gerard replied. 

"Oh, so your brother lives around here? Is it nice to have family close?"

"We're not close," Gerard said. "We were. We aren't anymore."

"Oh," Brendon said, and decided to drop the subject. At least they wouldn't have to talk about families. But he wondered what they would talk about considering how quiet Gerard had been on the walk back to his house. 

He wasn’t sure he was up to speed on his lessons in reading the signs yet. He’d thought maybe Gerard wanted to get to know him, but considering the lack of conversation so far, maybe it was just that Gerard had liked the way he looked. Brendon wasn’t sure how he felt about that, even in his new life.

"Sorry, I’m not really being a good host. Haven't done this in a while," Gerard said, unlocking the door and leading Brendon inside.

The windows were covered with deep red curtains to keep out the sunlight and the furniture was covered with a light blanket of dust. 

"So -- lived here long?" Brendon asked, as he made his ways around the living room, examining the graphic and complex paintings on the wall.

"A few years," Gerard replied. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"I'm good, I think. Thanks," he said. 

"Mm," Gerard mumbled, filling a glass from a bottle he picked up off the counter. Brendon could smell the liquor from his place across the room. 

"Uh, so -- hi," Brendon said after they stood looking at each other for a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. 

"Let's go downstairs. So you can play and I can get my words to come out," Gerard said suddenly. 

"If it makes you feel better, I've never done this before," Brendon said. He wasn’t entirely sure if “getting my words to come out” was the new “come up and see my etchings.” Ryland was taking his time getting through his History of Classic Pick-up Lines. 

"What, go home with a random guy?"

"Well, yeah. Considering everything I've done over the past few weeks, this is just another first to add to the list," Brendon said. 

Gerard was watching him but didn't say anything. It felt like he was being x-rayed. 

"First, huh? I better make it special then, I guess. But I'm not really that special," Gerard said, then stopped. "How old are you?"

"I'm nineteen and yeah, I think you're special. First phone number I ever got and now -- first friend who invited me home. So you're pretty special. Did you paint all of these?" Brendon asked, gesturing around the room, which was almost swallowed by the paintings that hung from every spare inch of the wall from the ceiling to the floor. 

"Yeah, but I haven't painted a thing in weeks. It makes me go a little nuts when I can't paint. But I went out to the club to try and pick up somebody to take the edge off and instead I saw you. And the way the lights were, it was like you were glowing. And, yeah, I drink, a lot, but I wasn't that drunk," Gerard said. 

"Uh, I don't think I'm radioactive, so I'm pretty sure the glow was in your imagination," Brendon said. 

"Maybe. But there's something about you," Gerard said, turning to face him and raising his fingers to Brendon’s cheek. "You make me want to paint again. I want you."

"Want me for what? Sex? Or..."

Gerard smiled faintly. "Everything."

"Um, you don't even know me," Brendon replied. "And – don’t take this the wrong way -- I don't really know you either."

"Yet. We don't know each other _yet_ ," Gerard said. 

"Then how do you know that you'll..." Brendon started.

But Gerard cut him off with a kiss. His lips were warm against Brendon’s, and it was like Brendon finally understood. This was all he needed to know.

***

Vicky's bedroom door was still half-open despite the late hour. He’d been planning to sneak into the guest room when Gerard dropped him off, but he took it as an invitation and didn't hesitate to go inside.

They’d all had sex in various combinations all over Vicky’s house --- and at Alex’s place too -- since they'd started giving Brendon 'lessons,' but they’d preserved Vicky’s bed mostly for sleeping. Since the lessons had started, he’d never spent a night alone, and he wasn’t looking forward to it again. 

Alex was snoring on his back, slack-jawed and sprawled out, and Vicky was curled around his side with her legs sandwiching one of his, also fast asleep. 

"Guys, wake up," he said, pouncing on the bed with enough force to make the mattress bounce.

"Brenny, shit," Vicky mumbled, but snapped awake as Alex rolled over and put the pillow over his head. 

"Sorry, but listen - I met someone," Brendon said.

He had to tell them about Gerard or he was going to burst. 

Vicky yawned and sat up, patting the middle of the bed. "Come on and tell me all about it. Didn't take you long."

"It's that guy from the club, the very first one - and he gave me his number but I didn't call because, you know -- I was learning and shit -- and then he came in to Ryland’s today and asked me to go home with him and..." Brendon started.

"Ryland fails at cockblocking," Alex muttered, moving the pillow and turning his head to the side but still not opening his eyes. 

"Yes, but moving on," Brendon continued, "I went with him because I can take care of myself, and he's really hot and I was just too fucking curious to ignore an invitation like that..."

"You know he was trying to pick you up, right? I don't invite single girls -- or guys -- to my house if I don't plan on getting laid," Alex said.

"Shut up and let him tell his story before we talk," Vicky said, reaching behind Brendon to thump Alex on the ear. 

He didn't know how he'd ever survived without Vicky T. She was the best friend he'd ever had and if he prayed for anything anymore, it was that she didn't end up hating him for something, cutting him off like his family had. 

"He's an artist and a poet and, well -- he's not really that funny, but when he smiles, it's amazing. He's amazing, Vicky, and I think I'm in some deep shit because I think he's amazing already and I've only known him, like, one day, and that's not right, it's not in the rules and..."

"Whoa, breathe," Vicky said, laughing, and covered his mouth. 

"Sorry," he said. He'd gotten a little more motor-mouthed now that he didn't get scolded for it at every turn. 

"Did you sleep with him?" Alex asked.

"No. I could have, probably, and I did fail because we made out a lot more than we talked, but I told him that wasn't an option until we knew each other better. I remember the rules," Brendon said.

"So far. But your crush seems pretty big for you to fight with stupid rules," Vicky said.

"I wouldn't sleep with him without telling you guys first. Even though we're not together together, I'd have to end our lessons, and...I like our lessons," Brendon said. 

"We like them, too, Brenny, but it's probably time for you to leave the nest," Alex said, rolling over onto his back again. 

"You're kicking me out?" Brendon gasped. He didn't have anywhere else to go and Vicky promised...

"No, kid, just giving you an A+ and setting you free to get your own dates. The three of us have chemistry, but we've never made you this giddy," Vicky said, soothing his nerves with a squeeze of his leg. “I told you, as long as you want it, you have a home with me.” 

He hadn't really realized how dependent he’d grown on these people, Vicky and Alex especially. He'd walked away from his family for this new life, but it was still the life that someone else was funding for him. He could never pay them back for this.

"Why the sad face, what just happened inside your head?" Alex asked, nudging him. “We like that someone is making you this giddy.” 

"Nothing, sorry, nothing," he said, trying to shake it off. "Gerard's awesome and I really like him and I just wanted to tell you guys that before I passed out."

He leaned over on either side and gave each of them a kiss on the cheek, then climbed out of the bed and hurried out of the room. He went back to the guest room and closed the door heavily behind him, leaning against it as if someone were about to break in behind him. 

What was he doing here, mooching off strangers that didn't know him from Adam? 

He walked over to the little-used bed and sat down on the edge of it, glancing down at his feet.

They had no reason to want him to stay and now he expected them to be happy for him finding a new friend? When they were giving him everything and he wasn't giving them anything in return? 

The door creaked open and Vicky walked in, yawning, to sit down on his bed beside him. 

"Spill,” she said with no preamble.

"What?" he asked, and looked up at her, startled. 

"Something freaked you out in there and if I have to kick Alex's ass, I like to know why in advance," she said. 

"It's nothing. I just...I need to start paying you back. Somehow," Brendon said. “ I can’t – I mean, it’s not like you’re getting anything from me and now . . .” 

"This again? Shit, Brenny, you're the little brother slash protegee slash best girlfriend ever that I've always wanted," Vicky said, taking his chin in her hand and forcing him to look in her eyes. "Seriously, I love having you around. I'm petrified that I'm fucking you up, but I can't care because I'm having so much fun. I want you to have fun, to have a boyfriend and be safe and healthy and -- God, I sound like a total mom or something, and ew – but the point is, there are no debts between friends that can't be paid with friendship in the long run."

"I just don't know what I'd do without you. And that's...really scary," Brendon whispered. 

"You'd be fine without me. But you don't have to worry about it. I have faith in you. But you still have to bring your boy toy over before you take him to bed for approval. I don't want you getting into anything you can't get out of."

"My virtue is safe. We made out, but we remained totally upright. His hand might have gone under my shirt - his hands were so cold, dude, it felt so good - but no clothes were taken off by either of us," Brendon said. "But I don't know if he's...social. And I don't think we're anywhere near close to that stage."

Vicky nodded, and ran her thumb over his chin before releasing him. 

"All right. We’ll leave it alone for now. Get some sleep. Come on, cuddle time," she said, opening her arms and pulling him into a hug. "I want my bubbly spaz back in the morning."

"'Kay," Brendon replied, forcing his freakout to the back of his mind and trying to enjoy the moment while it lasted.

“Not getting anything out of this,” she snorted into his hair. “Who else knows all the words to _Mamma Mia_ , hunh?”

*** ***

 _"It's Brendon again. By now, I get that you're not going to talk to me. But I won't apologize for trying one more time. I guess I'll mail you some postcards, I left my number already. I was hoping...that my being your son would be enough to make us able to stay in touch. I guess I'll stop calling so you won't have to change the number since you've had it so long. And...I got a job -- sort of, anyway -- so I have my own insurance. And money, not that you guys care anymore. But...I'll...I'll just send postcards so you can either send them back or throw them away. I love you. And even if you don't love me anymore, you can't make me not love you and miss you. Bye."_

*** *** ***

Ryland had put Brendon on the payroll after he’d finished his first box of ‘cultural education,’ declaring that Brendon was now fit to represent him in public, and by now he could make most of the coffee drinks that the sparse customers ordered. He liked being left in charge of the shop by himself because of how much it meant that Ryland trusted him.

Gerard came by the coffee shop every day since, usually around dusk. Ryland swore he was a vampire, but he made a point of being more polite than suspicious to Gerard when he waited for Brendon to leave with him. .

He couldn't not go with Gerard. He honestly thought he'd go anywhere for Gerard, even if Gerard really never wanted to go anywhere except back to his house. After that first night together, Brendon hadn’t let himself expect much, even though he’d wanted a lot, but Gerard had surprised him. 

Brendon was pretty sure that the coffee shop was the only place that Gerard ever would go outside his own basement. Well, the coffee shop and the liquor store. Brendon wasn't stupid. He knew Gerard had a small drinking problem, but Gerard didn't drive and Gerard was _amazing_ so it wasn't Brendon's problem. 'Yet', the Vicky voice in his head added, but he pretended not to hear that part.

He was just having so much fun. It was...great. 

He didn't remember anything in his life being as great as being with Gerard was now. Gerard would smile and flash his tiny, perfect teeth and Brendon would know exactly how they felt under his tongue. He'd take a deep breath and Brendon would know that he was about to say something important and true. He'd brush his hair out of his face and Brendon would know that he was about to get kissed breathless. 

Gerard kissed like...like it was everything. Like it meant everything. And Brendon liked thinking that he was everything to someone. 

The past few weeks had been like sensory overload for his newly devirginized brain. He went from no sex and the promise of heaven to lots of sex and imminent hell to no sex and and a different kind of hell in the span of a few weeks. It wasn't a place he wanted to stay for long so he'd decided to move to step two. 

He just hadn't told Gerard yet. 

But considering that their relatively chaste makeout sessions had given way to shirtless dry humping over the past few weeks, he didn't think it would be a problem to move on to blow jobs. 

It wasn't like it had been with Vicky and Alex. He liked them -- hell, he loved them like the best friends (or incestuous step-siblings, in Nate's description) that they’d become to him - but the kissing and groping with Gerard was different. So fucking different. It wasn’t practice anymore. 

He got to know his partner without having it spelled out. To learn for himself without being taught explicitly.. 

So he knew now that Gerard liked to kiss for awhile and then suck Brendon’s pulse points: the neck, the wrists, the elbows, and veins wherever he could find them.

The hickeys had only increased Ryland's vampire suspicions. 

But Gerard was too gentle to be scary. He begged permission for each kiss or touch, and looked into Brendon’s eyes for every answer. Brendon didn't see Gerard the way that everyone else did. He wasn't the depressed Goth guy that would hiss at babies; he wasn't like that at all. 

He was fragile. 

Special. 

And if he was brittle, it was because he'd been hurt before, like Brendon. Whatever had put the bottle in Gerard's hand must have been much worse than Brendon's family deciding he was bound for hell.

Brendon didn't want to fix Gerard, but he wanted to be with him as much as he could. And, maybe, help however he could. If he could make Gerard smile, it felt good for both of them and it was worth it. 

He wanted to make Gerard moan. It would make it even better.

There were no lights on in the front room when Brendon approached the house even though Gerard was supposed to be waiting for him. There was a faint light from a basement window, though, Brendon pushed open the door, putting down his overnight bag just inside the entranceway. He'd ordered food -- Gerard's favorite from the Italian place -- to be delivered soon, and he flicked on the porch light before heading in to turn on some interior lights as well. He wanted this to be special in his own memory at least, even if it was normal for Gerard. 

"Gee? You here?" Brendon called, listening for the normal pulse of the stereo from downstairs and smiling when he heard the thrash metal of the day. That soundtrack usually meant Gerard was frisky, and he hoped this was going to be as good a night as all the other ones had been.

When he ventured downstairs, though, Gerard was sitting on the floor with a bottle of whiskey between his legs. He usually poured a glass. 

"Hey, what's going on?" Brendon asked, moving over to kiss him hello, but Gerard turned his face away, frowning. His eyes were glazed, and Brendon wondered how long he'd been drinking. 

"Gerard? What's wrong? Did I do something?" Brendon asked after a beat, kneeling to sit back on his ankles.

"What are you doing here? Are you slumming with me, so you can make a notch on your little rich boy bedpost? Fuck you," Gerard said. 

Brendon felt like he'd stepped into the wrong house. 

"What?"

"You heard me. Cocktease, how fucking long are you going to lead me on and then run home and tell all your little friends how much fun it is to fuck with my head?" Gerard snapped. 

"Oh. Okay, wow. I'll just...go, yeah," Brendon said, when he recovered. He had no idea where Gerard had gotten that idea or why. 

Disappointment was something he should be used to by now. 

"Uh, when the food comes, you can just send it away, I guess. And...well, I'm not going to apologize because you're wrong. But...thanks, I guess, for helping me learn how this all works," Brendon said, getting to his feet and trying not to show Gerard he was shaking. 

Wow. First breakup. He really was on an accelerated course. 

He stumbled for the stairs blindly, trying not to listen for the sounds of Gerard following him. It was quiet, though, his footsteps echoing up the old, wooden stairs as he climbed to the kitchen. 

He wondered who the first person to say 'I told you so' would be. He had to make sure and not be upset in front of his friends. He couldn't let this - no matter how much it hurt – seem like it affected him. He wasn't a pussy. Or a stupid kid. He was an adult as much as he could be. He'd gotten through worse. 

He put a crumpled twenty on the counter in case Gerard actually answered the door when the food came. 

He turned around and saw Gerard watching him blearily from the top of the stairs. "Brendon," he said. 

"I'm leaving, just taking too long, I guess," Brendon said, turning away. He just had to leave. But Gerard came up the stairs and followed him unsteadily into the living room.

"What's that?" Gerard asked, kicking at his bag as Brendon leaned over to grab it. 

"Nothing that matters now," he said. He picked it up to shoulder it, but felt had a rush of hurt and anger, and unzipped it instead, dumping the contents out onto the floor. He couldn't just walk out without showing Gerard that he was wrong. 

"Change of clothes, fucking mixed CD - you can have a good laugh about that with your friends, I spent all last week trying to figure out your favorite songs - some condoms in case my foreplay actually got me any further, lube, all the stuff that I thought I'd need to have sex with my first real boyfriend. But you're not him and I'm stupid for thinking you would be - I'm just stupid, stupid over you and stupid over all of this and just stupid," Brendon said, leaving his stuff strewn over the floor and hurrying through the door. 

He ran right into the delivery guy and had to push past him. "Sorry - he'll pay you, left the money inside," Brendon said.

"Brendon! _Brendon!_ "

God, he was so stupid.

He didn't even want to go home. He didn't want to face Vicky and Alex with his epic fuck up. 

He pulled out his phone and called Nate, knowing that he was the failiest of all the friends. And if anything, he would definitely get Brendon’s mind off it the quickest. He wasn’t one for in-depth conversation when there was World of Warcraft to play. 

And Brendon really, really didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t even want to think about it. .

***

"Down, down!" Nate hissed and Brendon tried to duck when the car whizzed past but ended up falling flat on his back on the grass. 

"Fuck you!" Brendon laughed, struggling to get to his feet with his sluggish limbs and look at their handiwork.

He had spray paint all over his clothes and had drunk enough beer that his words were getting as tangled on his tongue as they felt in his brain.

"Damn, we're such better artists than that douchebag," Nate said, throwing an arm around him so they could sway together and look at the bright-green smiley face and assorted stars and flowers they'd managed to make the underside of the highway bridge prettier. 

"We should probably get out of here before I get hit by a car. I'm not ready to be roadkill tonight, unless you have more beer," Brendon said.

"Oh, way to bring me down - no more beer is my least favorite time of day," Nate pouted, then laughed. . "Come on, let's head back to the car so I can get my phone and get one of the guys to come pick us up."

They walked together to the car they'd parked behind some trees on the other side of the underpass and Brendon leaned his head on Nate's shoulder. "Thanks. For getting my mind off everything."

"No worries. I know you really liked him, but you're better off. Can't go jumping into a boyfriend when you're just getting off the Jesus train. Better to have some time to fuck around," Nate said. 

"I'm beginning to get that," Brendon replied. "And this was fun."

"Hell yes it was," Nate said, getting into the car and starting it to turn the the radio while he dialed his phone.

Brendon powered his own phone on for the first time since he’d called Nate around the corner from Gerard’s and it immediately lit up with texts and voicemail alerts. 

"Hey, Vicky...yeah, we just painted some awesome shit...okay. Hang on," Nate said, holding out his phone. 

"Uh oh," Brendon replied. "Hello?"

_"Brendon, are you okay? Because your boyfriend, or whatever, is camped outside our house and it's taking everything I have to keep Alex and Ryland from flicking Pez at him. What happened? I thought you were going to seduce the fucker tonight."_

Brendon sighed into the phone. "I don't know. But, basically, he dumped me because he thinks I'm a cocktease or something. Even though he knows I have rules; he knows my history; it's not like we don't talk - but he was just...angry. So I left. Fuck him, you know? Just fuck him," he said. 

"Yes, fuck him right off!" Nate agreed, leaning over to yell in the phone.

_"Awesome, you're drunk. He called you a cocktease?"_

"Can you just ask him to leave?" Brendon asked. 

_"Uh, yeah, but we've already done that, genius. Give me back to Nate and smoke a cigarette."_

"Good idea," Brendon said, tossing the phone to Nate and getting out of the car.

What the fuck was Gerard doing to him? 

He lit a cigarette and tried to decide what to do. Even though he knew it wouldn't matter until he saw Gerard again.. He was mad and upset with his parents, but he knew if he saw them, he'd forgive everything. Would he do the same for Gerard? Did he mean enough to Brendon for him to be able to forget it? He took a drag on the cigarette and felt stupid, because he was pretty sure that Gerard actually did mean that much to him. Already. Even though it hadn't been long enough for Brendon to have had actual feelings for him.

But he had feelings for Vicky and his other new friends, and he really hadn't known them much longer. 

"Vicky's coming to get us after she gets Gerard to let her drive him home. But she says the two of you are going to have a talk when you’ve got a lower blood-alcohol level," Nate said. 

"Did she say what he wanted?" Brendon asked.

"He's sorry for being a douchebag or something. She said he was pretty drunk," Nate said.

"Shit. Should I go over there?"

"Hey, make a footnote in your rules never to fight with your boyfriend or girlfriend when you're both drunk. Seriously, that's how murders and pregnancies happen," Nate said.

"I need to sleep on it, I guess. You think Vicky's pissed?" Brendon asked.

"Vicky lives for this shit, and I'm totally chaperoning you right now, so it’s all good," Nate said. "She's fucking proud that you're already breaking hearts like she does."

"You think I broke his heart?" Brendon gasped.

"I hope so, because you should always try and break their hearts before they break yours," Nate replied.

***

"I hate beer," Brendon groaned, sitting down heavily on a stool while Ryland opened the curtains and flooded the shop with sunlight for spite. "And I hate you."

"You're the one who wanted to get on the payroll for insurance and whatnot. So that means you get up and come to work even when you're hungover," Ryland said with a laugh. His laugh was very loud.

"You don't, you just leave the shop closed," Brendon muttered.

"Yes, but I'm the boss and I don't have to be here to make money to pay possible vandalism fines," Ryland said.

Brendon glanced at him in alarm but Ryland was laughing again.

"Just fucking with you. No more hanging out with Nate when he's on one of his hellraising jags, okay?" Ryland said.

"Whatever, it was fun," Brendon said, leaning his head on the cool counter and praying for the aspirin to kick in. He’d never felt like this before. If this was the regular result of as much drinking as he’d done last night, he could totally see why his ancestors had decided against it. He wondered how Gerard could stand it every day, and then winced. It wasn’t his problem anymore. 

He didn't know he'd dozed off until he felt a hand on his shoulder and another one on his lower back, shaking him awake. 

"Bren, hey," a quiet voice said in his ear. He blinked and saw Ryland standing at the other end of the counter, glaring behind him.. 

He sat up and surreptitiously wiped drool from the corner of his mouth as he recognized the soft touch at last. Gerard. 

"Hey," he whispered. 

"You're going to get a crick in your neck if you stay like that," Gerard said. He tried a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

"Mm. Tired. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you made yourself perfectly clear. And why were you at my house last night? You shouldn't piss Vicky T off or she'll..."

"They threw candy at me," Gerard said, interrupting. "And I know, she warned me. A lot. But I know that I'm the one that fucked up. I was drunk. More than drunk. Wasted.. And I took it out on you because you were there. You know I don't have any friends, right? It’s because...because I get mean sometimes - but I don't mean it, I don’t. I like you so much and you...you make me feel better than I've felt in a long time and I...please. Give me another chance. I don't want you to think of me as a creep that just wants you for sex - I swear, I'm not like that. I really like you. Can we talk, at least?" 

It might have been the most Gerard had said all in a row since Brendon had known him. Brendon heard the words but he didn't want to feel them. But he couldn't deny Gerard sounded sincere.

"I want to make it up to you," Gerard said. "Please?"

"How do I know you're not going to snap on me again?" Brendon asked. 

Gerard pushed a hand through his hair and Brendon remembered how it felt tickling against his skin, but he forced himself to focus with his upstairs brain. 

"You don't. I'm moody, you knew that already. And sometimes...I say stuff I don't mean. But you make me want to do better. It's been so long since I had someone I cared about losing. Please, just -- please," Gerard said, pulling him into a hug. 

"I don't like you when you're mean," Brendon muttered into his shoulder. 

"Me either. And I'll remember next time. But you have the right to be mean back to me. Don't leave. I don't like it when you leave. When I can't find you," Gerard said, tentatively kissing Brendon as he pulled away, keeping his hands on Brendon’s waist lightly, as if he couldn’t bear to let go. "You can yell at me and throw things and get mad at me, too. Just don't leave."

Gerard winced and Brendon had to stifle a laugh when a small, pastel square skittered across the counter. Ryland was talking to a customer and acting like he hadn't just dive-bombed Gerard with cheap candy.

"What is with the Pez?" Gerard asked, frowning at the candy on the counter. 

"Alex won a lifetime supply of Pez in a contest once," Brendon said.

"I'm glad they're looking out for you. But the candy is weird," Gerard said. 

"You're weird," Brendon said. 

"Do you still like weird?" Gerard asked. 

"Maybe. Yeah. We're going to a movie after work, if you want to come hang out with me and my weird friends," Brendon said. 

"I'll do whatever you want," Gerard said immediately. "I don't even care what movie, or if they throw candy at me all night."

"I'll protect you," Brendon said, smiling and giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. "You want to buy me a cup of coffee?"

"Yes, with extra whipped cream," Gerard smiled. 

Fuck, he was so easy. But Brendon wouldn't give up. Yet. Not when there was still a connection there. 

There was just something about Gerard.

*** ***

 _Dear Mom and Dad and the rest of you: Hope you're all doing well. Happy anniversary to Kara and Jimmy, five years strong. Hope Dad got the sprinklers working, the weather says it’s really dry at home this month. - Brendon_

*** *** ***

"You’re sure?" 

Brendon groaned at the ceiling and pushed himself up on his elbows so that he could get eye contact with Gerard.

“I’m sure.” He reached down and wrapped one hand around Gerard's sheathed cock and put the other on the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. "I want you to fuck me, Gerard. Please, I want to come with you inside me," Brendon said. 

Gerard had been loosening Brendon up with his fingers and an overabundance of lube and it was making him feel sort of weird with no follow through. 

But it wasn't weird in a bad way. He'd never been this buzzed with arousal before. It was like he had lust burning in his veins when Gerard's hands were on him -- his lips and his tongue and God, his cock -- Brendon was freaking out and if Gerard didn't do something soon, he really thought he was going to spontaneously combust. 

"Please, please, Gee, please," Brendon panted, stroking Gerard's cock and kissing him. 

Gerard nodded and moved Brendon's hand back to his own cock, taking his own in hand to rub the head of his dick over Brendon's hole. 

Brendon had been begging for it, but when Gerard finally pushed in, he lost his breath. He tensed and Gerard froze, not all the way in and looked down at him with worried eyes.

"Go slow, God, but go fast after that, just...shit..." Brendon said, raising his legs so he could give Gerard a better angle and adjust to the fullness.

"I forget you've only been with one other guy...shit...you're...shit..." Gerard whispered, pushing in another inch. 

Brendon would have scolded him for bringing that up but at the same moment Gerard's dick hit that spot deep inside that made his cock jolt in his fist. 

They'd spent three weeks after their first fight getting to know each other more with lazy hand jobs and desperate blow jobs and long drunken talks about life and love and family. 

Gerard grunted deep in his throat and Brendon sucked Gerard’s tongue into his mouth and whimpered against his lips when Gerard pulled out slowly and pushed in again.

He started a steady, painfully slow rhythm until Brendon couldn't take it anymore and bucked his hips instinctively, chasing release. 

"Come on, Gee, come on," Brendon said. 

"I want to see you come, I want to see your face when you come," Gerard breathed, quickening his thrusts and making Brendon’s vision go dark with every thrust.

Brendon let go of his own cock, not able to take it any longer, and fisted his hands in the sheets.Gerard lowered his head to kiss Brendon even as he pumped his cock between them. 

Brendon shuddered with release and cried out into Gerard's mouth when he came. Gerard only lasted a few more thrusts before collapsing on top of him with a muted gasp.

He threaded his fingers through Gerard's damp hair and lowered his legs so he could relax. His body was still tingling. 

"So much better than I thought, you're fucking amazing, Bren, you're...," Gerard trailed off, pulling Brendon close and kissing him again.

"It was okay? Because I thought it was awesome, but I don't want you to..." Brendon started.

"Shut up, it was awesome. We're going to do that more often. As much as you'll let me," Gerard said. 

Brendon snuggled in close, sliding his arms around Gerard and laying his head on Gerard’s chest. "I could get used to this."

"I want you to. Can you stay tonight?" Gerard asked.

"Yeah. I don't really have a curfew, you know," Brendon said, laughing softly. 

"I know. But you always go home. And I want you to stay. Sometimes. A lot. I like having you around. Close," Gerard said.

"You're a little possessive," Brendon said. 

"You're my boyfriend. And Suarez...he looks at you like he wants to strip you down and do you on the table," Gerard said.

"Alex is my friend. And he's with Vicky, so you aren't allowed to be jealous. I didn't...don’t care about him the same way I care about you," Brendon said. He wouldn't say 'love' first. Even if he was pretty sure that's what this was. 

He thought he loved Gerard.

And it wasn't just the post-sex endorphins either. 

"Sorry, I know, just...damn, you get me all twisted inside," Gerard said.

" _Mm_. Me, too. Let's sleep. I'll make you some breakfast tomorrow," Brendon said.

"Yeah? But I don't have any food, I don't think."

"I got stuff for you when I went grocery shopping with Vicky and Ryland yesterday," Brendon said. 

He fell asleep with Gerard's lips on his skin and Gerard’s heartbeat in his ear. 

He felt safe and content in a way he never thought he'd feel again, not since he’d left home for his mission. 

This is what he wanted. This was worth everything.

***

"No, no, not that one, can you just stop?" Gerard snapped, but keeping his voice as light as he could through his clenched teeth.

Brendon was used to his mood swings a little more by now, but they always surprised him. He put the guitar down on the old futon beside him and stretched his arms. Gerard had asked Brendon to keep him company while he tried painting, but that had been hours ago.

"Yeah. You want me to hang out?" he asked, trying to judge if he should leave for a while or stick around for the upswing. 

It was weird, but since he'd been staying over almost every night and slowly filling his third drawer and doing his laundry here Gerard hadn't been drinking as much. He had a little more color in his cheeks. 

But his temper had been razor thin and Brendon had learned to just walk away and not take the bait. 

Turn the other cheek was supposed to work, even in the ‘real’ world, and Gerard was always okay again after he'd had a few drinks or some alone time to paint or scribble. 

If Gerard could put up with his spazziness and annoying qualities, then Brendon could put up with a few personality quirks in return. 

"Sorry. Just. Need some headspace," Gerard said with a sigh.

"I'll chill upstairs for a while, close the door. Yell if you want me, and I'll leave a note if I go anywhere," Brendon said, taking his guitar to the stairs. 

"Hey. Thanks. I love you, yeah?" Gerard called when he was halfway up.

"Yeah, me too, Gee," he said automatically.

He meant it. Gerard made him feel something that was too pure and real not to be love. It couldn't be anything else.

He sat down on one of the chairs in the newly-clean living room and carefully put his guitar back in its case before he flipped on the TV. Cable was still amazing to him, and it didn’t take long to get sucked into an old Sex and the City rerun. 

"Who are you?"

Brendon jumped at the question and turned around. He didn’t recognize the skinny guy in glasses standing behind the couch with a couple of grocery bags and he didn’t remember leaving the door unlocked. 

"Who are you?" Brendon replied in return. He studied the guy for another minute and then recognized him. "Oh, wait. You’re Mikey, right? You're Gerard's brother."

He knew bits of the story from the late nights and early mornings with Gerard when he'd actually talked to Brendon about his past. There had been interventions and fistfights and more interventions and Gerard had never gotten over what he saw as a betrayal by his brother.

"Yeah, but who the fuck are you?" Mikey asked again..

"I'm Brendon. I guess - I'm your brother's boyfriend. Did he know you were coming?" 

"No, he's always downstairs. I bring groceries so he doesn't starve," Mikey said. “I still have a key. I let myself in.” 

"He's not starving," Brendon said. He wasn’t. Brendon had gone shopping with Vicky three days ago. "Hang on, I'll get him for you."

Mikey watched him with narrowed eyes as he hurried across the room and into the kitchen. 

"Gerard?" Brendon called as he raced down the basement stairs, hoping that Gerard had shaken off his earlier mood. 

"Hm?" Gerard had his head buried in his work, but his interrogative noise sounded distracted, not angry, at least. 

"Your brother's here. Do you want to..."

"Tell him to go fuck himself," Gerard replied evenly. He didn't look up from his sketchpad.

"Are you..."

"I'm not talking to him."

Brendon didn't argue, he just walked back upstairs and tried to steady himself for a second look at Gerard’s angry brother. By the time he got to the top of the stairs, Mikey was in the kitchen, putting his bags on the counter. 

"Uh, he's really sorry, but he's in the middle of something," Brendon said.

Mikey snorted. 

"I heard what he said from here."

"Sorry," Brendon said. He was, too. He was a little jealous that Gerard at least had the option of talking to his family. Brendon was pretty sure – no matter how hurt he was right now – he wouldn’t turn down the same chance. 

"How'd he snag you? You don't look like a hooker, or a junkie," Mikey muttered, pulling groceries out of the bags and slamming them down on the counter. 

"Your brother's awesome. A little fucked up, but he's...great," Brendon said.

"He's sick," Mikey snapped. "And you're sick for encouraging it."

Brendon took a deep breath. 

"I'm not sick. And I love your brother and even if he drinks a lot, I'm not going to leave him and I'm not going to stop loving him. He's not sick to me."

"Love him. You don't even know him," Mikey said. 

"I know enough. I help him the only way I can, and he lets me the only way he can," Brendon said. 

"Yeah, you're helping him kill himself, good job with that," Mikey snarled. He wrenched open the refrigerator door and then stopped, frozen, staring over at the top of the stairs. 

"Mikey, shut the fuck up," Gerard said, stomping into the kitchen angrily. 

"Gee...shit, you look..." Mikey's eyes went wide when he saw his brother. Brendon wondered exactly how long it had been since he had seen Gerard in person. 

"You can't just come in my house and start a fight for no reason with someone you don’t even know when nobody asked you here in the first place...." Gerard's race was red with rage and Brendon knew it was going to get nasty if he blew his top. 

"Hey. Hey, Gee, relax," Brendon said, pulling out his one surefire trick and moving to stand in front of Gerard and catch his eye. "Time out." Brendon kissed him softly on the lips and Gerard's eyes went dim for a moment before he turned and stormed back down the stairs. 

He had learned the art of the timeout early on, thanks to Gerard’s jealous streak, even if he had to use that trick more than he wanted, especially when they were Alex.

"How'd you do that?" Mikey asked quietly. “Usually we’re having a fist fight by now.” 

"He knows I don't like yelling. And that works most of the time. But you probably shouldn't stay long," Brendon said. 

"He looks...healthy. And there really is food in the fridge," Mikey whispered. 

"I know whatever went down was different from your side of it. And I know he drinks a lot, but...he's alive. And he's trying, but he's got to do it himself. He has to want to. And for right now, at least, he's okay. He’s holding his own," Brendon said.

Mikey closed the fridge. 

"You seem like a good guy, Brendon. And I think you might actually care about him, but you can’t be that blind. He's an alcoholic. And alcoholics die if they don't stop drinking and he won't stop. He can't stop."

"It doesn't make me not love him," Brendon said. "I can see past that."

Mikey sighed. 

"For now, maybe. But you'll see that as must as you love him, it's not as much as he loves the bottle. You should get out while you still can."

Brendon turned his back on Mikey and stalked back to the living room. 

Fuck him. 

He wasn't going to let some stranger taint what he had with Gerard. Gerard didn't hold his past against him so Brendon was returning the favor.

***

Brendon felt stupid. Everything made him feel stupid lately. 

Vicky would tease him about something as silly as a three-month anniversary making him get so excited, if she knew. 

But he'd never had a boyfriend before. He'd never dated someone before, let alone had a key to someone's house. 

He would never tell anyone, but he felt like he was finally living his teenage years. His second adolescence. 

He wasn't sure if Gerard would even remember so he kept it to himself. He didn't want his boyfriend to know how immature he was. 

He was going to celebrate in his own way. 

He knew Gerard had been having issues with his agent, once he’d figured out that Gee even had an agent for his paintings. 

Brendon knew Gerard had been doing a lot of paintings, but his agent apparently didn't like enough of them to get him a gallery show. 

So Brendon was trying to help however he could, even if it meant bringing Gerard’s food into the studio and playing his guitar on the second floor so the sound didn't carry into the basement. Even if it meant that their sex was more frantic and desperate than slow and fun.

He still got off, even if Gerard was sometimes already asleep when he finished himself off. 

He liked having a boyfriend, being a boyfriend. It was too much to ask for anything else.

So tonight, he had gone to the bookstore and bought the nicest leather journal he could find and the felt-tipped pens that Gerard used even though they sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Brendon. He went to the deli next and picked up Gee's favorite sandwich, with the sauerkraut that Brendon couldn't even look at without gagging. 

He wanted to make a fuss for Gerard, even if the date didn't mean anything to him. He was prepared for the worst, though. So far, anytime he'd tried to do something special, it had backfired. 

It was just another reason he really wanted this to work. It wasn’t for Brendon. 

He was doing fine without his family. He sent them a postcard once a week that he hoped wasn't being forwarded to the Bishop. His friends were filling the holes that his family had left in his life. Music was filling the void that was left when he’d left religion behind. 

He was doing okay.

This was what he wanted. This was everything he’d told himself he'd always wanted. And if it wasn't what he had expected, that was okay, too. 

He made sure the bags from the deli weren't leaking and took the bus to Gerard's place.

When he heard the thumping rhythm from downstairs, though, a little of his optimism faded. He could tell by the beat that Gerard wasn't having a good day. But he carried the bags downstairs anyway, hoping for the best. 

"Gerard?" Brendon called. 

He didn't get an answer and finally spotted Gerard in the corner, sleeping soundly with his head pillowed against a blank canvas. 

Brendon put his stuff down and walked over to his boyfriend, grabbing the blanket he kept hidden in the corner to cover him up and moving the paint aside to keep him from rolling into it while he slept. 

He let his fingers trace Gerard’s cheek for a moment before he stepped away to turn down the stereo and take his gifts back upstairs. He stored the sandwich in the fridge and put the wrapped journal on the counter for later before curling up on the couch to watch something to take his mind off another disappointment.

He was doing okay.

He heard footsteps and glanced up to see if Gerard had come upstairs, but instead saw Mikey and his fucking groceries standing in the hallway. 

Great. He settled back on the couch again to try and figure out who the baby's daddy was on the day’s _Maury_. 

"I’m surprised you're still here," Mikey said. 

Brendon would have given him the finger if he thought it wouldn't start another painful discussion. 

He closed his eyes and pulled his blanket up around his shoulders, trying to sink into the cushions. After a moment, he heard Mikey take his bags into the kitchen, as usual, thumping around as he rearranged Brendon’s careful system yet again.

"What's the occasion?" Mikey asked. Brendon opened his eyes and turned to see him walking out with the wrapped journal in his hand. 

Brendon sighed and pushed the blanket off, toeing his sneakers on as he stood up off the couch. He walked over and plucked the the journal out of Mikey’s hand. 

"Thanks for the groceries that we still don’t need, can you lock the door when you leave?"

"I'm not...what's going on?" Mikey asked, and it actually looked like he cared. "It's not his birthday and Gerard doesn't do gifts, so...I thought maybe it was something...good."

"I'm not good for your brother, remember? So why do you care?" Brendon snapped. 

"Because...you are good for my brother. I never said that. Better than he is for you from what I can see," Mikey said. 

"I get what you're trying to do. I respect it. I know that you guys have a lot of bad shit between you, but you're still his brother and you're still trying to stay in contact with him even though he doesn't want you to, and I know it takes a lot for you to keep trying and I respect that,” Brendon said, placing the gift carefully on the coffee table. “But don't try to make friends with me, don't act like you care when you've already judged me. I'm used to being hated because of the people I choose to love, so just --don't talk to me.”

Gerard chose that moment to come out of the basement, of course, and Brendon could see the flash of jealousy and rage before he even opened his mouth. 

"He brought groceries," Brendon said. “Mikey brought groceries.”

Gerard turned to Brendon with narrowed eyes, ignoring his brother completely.

" _You_ bring me groceries. What are you doing letting him in?” He spun on his heel, looking at Mikey for the first time. “And what the fuck is this, did you think you could buy my boyfriend presents to get him on your side?" 

He picked up the journal and threw it across the room, shattering a framed picture that Brendon had just hung up a few weeks earlier. 

"That was from him -- to you -- not from me. You don't even take birthday cards from me," Mikey said. "And he didn't let me in, I still have a key."

"You fucking bastard," Gerard hissed, lunging for Mikey. Brendon grabbed his arm. 

"No, goddammit. No, Gerard. He's your brother, don't," Brendon said. "Please."

"Let go of me," Gerard said, wrenching his arm away. 

"I didn't come here to fight," Mikey said. 

"Why do you come here? Nobody wants you here," Gerard said, and Brendon didn't even see him draw his arm back in enough time to try to stop the roundhouse punch Gerard was aiming at his brother. Not that it mattered, since he managed to it anyway with the side of his face. Apparently, Gerard had been drinking again while he painted, and his aim was off just enough that he clipped Brendon as he stood between the two brothers. 

"Fuck, ow," Brendon spat, stumbling back. His face throbbed. 

The house was silent now except for the canned 'ooohing' from Maury's revelation of today's new parent and Gerard’s heavy breathing, and Brendon knew his cheek was going to swell. 

"Brendon, I'm so..." Gerard started, but Mikey interrupted. 

"I'll get him some ice," Mikey said, already starting towards the kitchen.

"No, just – you know what? I'm going to go. I'll come by later after I’ve cleaned up and we'll talk, okay?" Brendon said.

"No, don't leave, you promised...don't leave," Gerard said, his voice desperate. 

"I'm just going home for a while, I'll be back," Brendon said, taking a step back instinctively when Gerard reached for him. Gerard face fell, and he looked like he someone had slapped him.

"But...you can't leave, not...like this. Not until I can...please."

"If you want to make it up to me, you'll have a fucking conversation with your brother without losing your shit," Brendon said, and walked out before either of the brothers could say another word. 

He was halfway back to Vicky’s before he could process what had happened.

He loved Gerard. He knew it was real. 

But he was starting to think that it wasn't enough. That sometimes, no matter how much he loved someone, no matter how hard he tried - it didn't matter.

*** ***

 _"Hey, Brendon. How're you doing?"_

_"Mason? Hey. I'm doing okay. How is everyone?"_

_"We're good."_

_"So, what's the occasion? I'm surprised to hear from you. You sure everything's all right?"_

_"Do I need a reason to call my baby brother?"_

_"Considering everything, yeah, you, kind of, do."_

_"You stopped sending postcards."_

_"Yeah. Figured I should stop wasting stamps when they always get sent back. I didn't know right away because my roommate didn't want to tell me, but I found the box where she was keeping them."_

_"Mom and Dad...they..."_

_"Don't. It's okay. Well, it's not, but at least I know where I stand."_

_"You're family..."_

_"Apparently not. It's really good to hear from you, Mason. How's Janie? You guys still doing good?"_

_"Yeah, we are, thanks. When are you coming home?"_

_"I am home. You guys have made it pretty clear it's the only one I'm allowed to have."_

_"Don't say that - you know you can come back whenever you..."_

_"I know it's a lot easier for Mom and Dad to forget the past eighteen years than it is for me."_

_"We just don't understand how you can just forget about the church and the Lord and keep on this path."_

_"'Beloved, Let us love one another: for love is of God; and everyone that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love.' I haven't forgotten the important parts. I still love you and the family."_

_"You can't just pick and choose which rules you want to believe..."_

_"'Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce that you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get,' I guess I should forget that one, too? I'm going to be honest, Mason, I don't think I stopped believing in God until Mom and Dad and all of you stopped believing in me."_

_"You're making the wrong choice."_

_"I already made it. I'm not taking it back."_

_"We're praying for you."_

_"Whatever makes you feel better. I have to go."_

_"Hey. Brendon. You can send me the postcards. Will you do that?"_

_"Have you asked the Bishop if you're allowed to do that?"_

*** *** ***

He was relieved that Vicky wasn't home when he got back to the house. He took a quick shower, not really caring how he looked now that his romantic night was off the table, but wanting to get steady before going back to Gerard's.

And he had to go back. 

He wasn't giving up on Gerard. On whatever they had. 

He shouldn't have gotten between Gerard and Mikey. That wasn't his place. Whatever was going on with the Way brothers had nothing to do with his own family issues. 

It wasn't his place. 

He checked himself in the mirror and was relieved that his cheek was only red and not bruised. He still remembered wrestling with Mason when he was younger and ending up with a sprained wrist. They'd still wrestled again the next week. 

That memory hurt more than both physical injuries. The fact that he'd never be able to hang out with his brother again, never hear any of his brothers and sisters laugh at something stupid he said, that was the worst pain he’d ever felt, and he couldn’t’ stop circling around the idea, like he was worrying a bad tooth with the tip of his tongue 

He could never take back what he'd done. And they could never take back what they'd done, either. 

But he could go back to his boyfriend's house and fix this stuff.

He wasn't leaving. He had promised. He had promised Gerard and himself. 

There was no God that they were divided over. The only promises that bound them were the ones they had made to each other, and Brendon wasn't going to be the one to break them.

He put on his favorite sweatshirt, 'borrowed' from Alex, and his favorite sneakers and headed back outside.

He turned his iPod to the bubble-gum pop all his friends hated and enjoyed the sun on his face as he walked back to Gerard's. 

He didn't expect to see Mikey's car still in the driveway but he didn't hear any yelling so he hoped things were okay. He hoped he didn't have to call an ambulance.

He stepped inside the house, hoping things weren’t now so bad he needed to knock, and saw Gerard and Mikey sitting on the same couch in front of the TV. 

"Wow. Everything okay?" he asked.

Gerard knocked him backwards a step when he embraced him, making record time to get to the door. 

"I'm so sorry, Bren, so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," he whispered.

"Hey, if I thought you had been trying to hurt me, I wouldn't be here right now. You know I hate it when you yell," Brendon replied, hugging him back. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Gerard repeated.

"Hey. Stop it. Tell me how it's going," Brendon said, pushing Gerard's hair out of his face so he could see if he was okay. 

He had to see Gerard’s eyes for that. 

"Okay. It's...okay. Come sit down," Gerard said, keeping his arm tight around his waist. 

"Your face okay?" Mikey asked once they’d all sat down again. He sounded genuinely worried. . 

"Yeah, I think I'll still be beautiful tomorrow," Brendon said. 

Gerard put his hand to Brendon’s inflamed cheek gently. 

"Yeah. Always."

"So did you guys...settle things?" Brendon asked.

"Enough," Mikey said. "Enough to be wary friends again."

"He's my brother and even if we disagree on the way I live my life, we still have the brother part," Gerard whispered. 

He didn't expect the stab of envy and loss, but he covered it by embracing Gerard. 

"Good."

"Yeah. Good. I'm just sorry you had to get hurt for it to happen," Gerard said. 

"You seem like a good guy, Brendon. And you're good for Gerard, so I'm sorry for being a dick to you," Mikey said. 

Brendon nodded. "He's good for me, too."

"We have a no-yelling rule. And it works most of the time," Gerard said to Mikey. “I told you, this never happens.” 

"Yeah, basically it means I walk away before he yells and then he comes to find me when he's not going to yell," Brendon said. 

"Sounds reasonable," Mikey said. 

"You swear you're not mad?" Gerard whispered in Brendon’s ear.

"Swear. But you could suck up and go get my sandwich out of the fridge and get me a glass of water," Brendon said.

"You want anything, Mikey?" Gerard asked.

"I'm good, thanks," he replied. 

Brendon pulled his legs up onto the couch, folding them underneath him.

"Hey. Thanks. It's been...a really long time since he would talk to me," Mikey said when Gerard had left the room. 

"I'm glad. He talks about you like you were his best friend for a long time. And everybody needs a best friend," Brendon said. "Even if they can't have a brother."

"I hope we can have both. I still want to know how he found you," Mikey said.

Brendon smiled, leaning over and lowering his voice. 

"You know we started going out three months ago today? It's stupid, but he's my first boyfriend so I wanted to at least pretend celebrate, you know? But you guys making up, it makes today so much more important."

"Shit, man, I'm sorry, Gerard didn't say..." Mikey apologized.

"He probably doesn't remember - it doesn't matter in the long run. And like I said, today's special because you guys connected again. I want him to be happy and it's...it’s hard sometimes," Brendon whispered. 

"Here you go, Bren," Gerard said, bringing his sandwich and and a glass of water back in from the kitchen. 

"Thanks," Brendon said with a smile.. 

"I thought maybe we could go to a movie or something tonight. You wanted to see the new Pixar thing, right?" Gerard asked.

"I do, but I'm supposed to meet Ryland later. I thought you'd be painting," Brendon lied. 

"Oh. Okay. Do you still want to go?" Gerard asked Mikey.

Mikey glanced at him but Brendon hoped he could hide his lie from the guy. Mikey didn't know him like that. 

"Yeah, Gee, I really want to hang out," Mikey said. 

"Go brush your teeth and stuff and you guys can give me a ride home. I'm going to smoke," Brendon said.

Gerard huffed, but kissed his sore cheek gently. 

"Fine. Just one, though."

Brendon rolled his eyes. 

“Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black lung?” Brendon said, and Mikey hid his grin across from them. 

Gerard kissed Brendon properly and went upstairs. Brendon shook a cigarette out of his pack and lit it with the shiny lighter Nate had bought him at the fair a couple of weeks ago. It had a Tweety Bird etched on one side and it was his favorite thing ever, at least this week. 

"Do you really have plans?" Mikey asked, glancing over at him.

"Yeah. I do," Brendon lied. "But -- a tip for you, for later. If you get a drink to share, he won't put liquor in it. And get him decaf if you go for coffee after and he won't drink when he gets home."

"Sneaky," Mikey said.. 

"He knows I do it. Honesty's...sort of important, you know?" Brendon took a long drag off the cigarette, holding in the smoke until he had to exhale. It didn't feel the same as it used to now that he did it all the time. "I won't ask him to change. But I'll help him when he wants to."

"Does he want to?" Mikey whispered.

Brendon shrugged. 

"He's cutting back. It makes him moodier, but it's worth it when he's actually lucid enough to process what's going on. I don't think he can just...stop. Not the way he is now. I think it would make him sick. This is enough for me, for now."

It was. It had to be.

*** ***

"Why don't you move in with me?" Gerard whispered. 

Brendon rolled over in the bed so he was facing Gerard. 

"Where's this coming from?"

"You already stay here almost every night. And I love you, and, I think...I'm going to need you around more often soon," Gerard said. 

"Oh yeah? Why?" Brendon asked. 

"I want to do my next gallery show...sober. Mikey thinks it'll be good for my image and I...want to be good enough for you. You know that I'm, like, the worst first boyfriend anyone could ever have, right?" Gerard whispered. 

"I don't think so. I mean, you say you love me and that's pretty much enough for me," Brendon replied.

"I don't just say it, I do. And you deserve more than that. I want...to get better for you. I want to have you and be able to appreciate it. You make me happy, you make me think I can stop drinking," Gerard said. 

"I don't know," Brendon admitted. "It's only been four months. Isn't it supposed to be longer before I move in?"

"It's different for everyone. I've never asked anyone to move in with me before," Gerard said. "I want you here. Close."

"Are you going to get mad if my friends come over to visit? If you come home and Alex and I are camped out in the living room playing video games, are you going to get mad?" Brendon asked.

Gerard's nostrils flared. 

"I'll try not to."`

"I already live here most of the time. I haven't been home in a few days," Brendon said.

"But you still have dinner with Vicky and your friends almost every night. You should be here," Gerard said.

"You're usually drunk at dinner time," Brendon replied, trying to keep his voice matter-of-fact. "And I'm not just going to...I need them, Gee. They're the only family I have."

"And if I asked you to choose, you'd choose them," Gerard said. 

Brendon sat up, staring down at Gerard in the dark. 

"Would you ask me to choose?"

Gerard seemed to see that he'd gone too far. 

"I was just..."

"Fuck you. You don't have any idea what I had to go through to get here, to have the guts to ditch my mission and lose my family. I wouldn't even be able to be here with you if it weren't for them. I owe them everything I have right now."

"What about me, don't you consider me important enough to..."

"If you loved me, you'd want me to be happy, too. You'd want me to have a support system, too."

"I want to make you happy. I want you to have me as a support system," Gerard said. Even in the dark, Brendon could see his frown. , and he felt like the calm he'd found was crumbling beneath him. 

"I'm not like you, Gerard, I can't do it by myself. I need them."

"And you don't need me," Gerard said.

Brendon bit his tongue to keep from losing his temper.

"Tell me. You always just shut down when we're talking about something serious," Gerard snapped. "It's infuriating."

"You only talk to me when you're in the mood, and then I have to be careful not to piss you off. Is it any wonder I shut down?” Brendon blurted out.“You hate my friends, even though they're good for me, and you never do anything nice for me unless you're apologizing for something - you don't even know how I take my coffee - and I'm trying...but if you don't love me enough to deal with my friends then I guess I don't really know what I'm wasting my time for.” He looked down at the sheets, tangled up around his waist. "I didn't think it was supposed to be this hard, that I'd be tearing myself down to please somebody else who doesn't care about how I feel."

"I...shit, if I'm so bad to you, why are you still here?" Gerard said.

Brendon didn't have an answer. He didn't know how this turned into an argument. He didn't understand how being asked to move in could end up being a breakup. 

He got out of bed and picked up his clothes up off the floor..

"Yeah. Take off, it's what you always do when shit gets hard," Gerard taunted him as he got dressed. “Run away back to that rich bitch and her minions.” 

"I'll come back for my stuff," Brendon said as he zipped up his pants, trying not to look over at the bed. 

"You say that, too. Every time. You threaten to leave, but you never do," Gerard snapped.

He stopped what he was doing and turned away, putting his face in his hands. 

What was he doing? What had he been doing here for months? He'd spent eighteen years loving people that didn't love him back and here he was doing it all over again. 

"I don't know why I keep trying, I don't know why I can't just not care, I have to learn how to not care," he said, letting the tears he'd kept inside for all this time come out even though he knew he couldn't stop them once he started. “You know what? I’m not coming back for my stuff. I’m taking it all with me.” 

By the time he'd emptied the drawer with his clothes into the floor, picking out just what he wanted; he was choking with sobs. 

"Brendon - Brendon, stop it, please, I'm sorry..." Gerard said. He sounded contrite, almost terrified. But it was too late and Brendon couldn't stop crying. He didn't know if he'd ever stop. 

Gerard put his hand on Brendon’s arm and Brendon jerked away. 

"I'm sorry, please, don't...you promised you wouldn't leave, please stop crying, just..."

"Leave me alone," Brendon managed to get out, grabbing his armload of stuff and stumbling out of the room. 

Mikey was sitting up on the couch by the time Brendon made it to the living room. He’d been sleeping over on nights when they all went out together, now that Gerard would let him.

"Can you drive me home, Mikey?" he asked, finally getting himself under some control. 

"No - he's not going anywhere, not until we finish talking," Gerard said, his voice panicked as he hurried down the stairs behind him. 

Mikey glanced between them but Brendon didn't give him a chance to decide, just walked by him and out of the house.

He was barefoot, but it was only a mile or so to Vicky's and he'd walked further than that before. At least he wasn’t in the desert any more. 

He just hoped he stopped crying before he got home.

*** ***

"You want to go tear up some shit?" Nate asked. 

Brendon had made it six blocks before he’d given in and sat down on a curb to wipe his face and call Nate for a ride. He’d shown up in the passenger seat of Ryland’s car ten minutes later, too drunk to drive himself, and with Vicky and Alex in the backseat. They’d bundled him into the car and then into Vicky’s living room, keeping him between them the whole time. 

"Stop it, that's not what he needs," Ryland frowned, shoving him. 

"What do you need, Bren?" Alex asked, leaning his head on Brendon’s shoulder where he was huddled under the blanket on Vicky's sofa. 

"I just need...I don't know. I thought he loved me," Brendon whispered.

"They never do," Vicky said from where she was curled up on his other side. 

"We're not the best teachers when it comes to finding love. Otherwise we'd have girlfriends, or boyfriends," Alex said. 

"He's trying to get sober. What if he gets sober and I've missed my chance to be with him by giving up now?" Brendon asked. 

"It's not worth it if you're this unhappy," Vicky said. 

"What do you guys do to get over breakups?" Brendon asked. 

"Get drunk and find someone new to make out with," Nate said. 

"I don't feel like that tonight. Maybe tomorrow. But tonight I just want to curl up and cry," Brendon whispered. 

"No more crying, we've had enough of that," Vicky said.

"Crying is for pussies," Brendon smiled tiredly, remembering Vicky's words from his first few days here. 

"Yeah. Come on, let's put in _The Goonies_ and relax. I'll get you some ice cream and we'll put that fudge you like on it, and maybe a big mug of hot chocolate," Vicky said. 

"I think I'm just going to go to bed." 

He didn't want to be coddled when he'd made this mess himself. 

"No, you're going to let us wallow with you," Alex said.

Brendon closed his eyes and pulled the blanket tighter around him. 

"I think I should go home. Try again. I've thrown my 'little tantrum' so I could just go meet with the Bishop and go to straight camp and finish my mission and settle down and make babies with some nice Mormon girl."

"You’d better be joking," Vicky said quietly. 

"I just don't know what I'm doing anymore. Maybe we're all meant to be unhappy here so we can be happy later, when we're dead," Brendon said.

"Bullshit. You got your heart broken, and sorry, kid, but it happens all the time. It won't be the last time," Ryland said. “Now, pick a comfort food, goddamnit, or I’m going to start pouring shots of tequila straight down your throat. Straight camp. I am straight, and that still sounds like a horror show.” 

He glared down at Brendon from his full height, then made a face so ridiculous that Brendon barked out a startled laugh. 

"Ice cream," he said finally. “With the fudge on it.” 

He had to shake this off. They were right, he was being ridiculous. Vicky kissed the top of his forehead and stood up to head for the kitchen, but Alex just pulled him closer. 

He was still snuggled under the blanket when the doorbell rang, but he didn't let himself worry about who was coming by this late. 

He should've known Gerard would come looking for him but he didn't move and Alex didn't move his arm when Nate walked him into the room. 

"Can we talk?" Gerard asked softly. 

"I think we've already done that," Brendon said. 

"You said things that I hadn't considered before. I can't fix stuff if I don't know it's broken," Gerard replied. 

"Maybe you should get yourself straight before you fuck him around anymore," Ryland said. 

"Brendon. Please," Gerard whispered.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

"I don't think we should see each other. For a while. Your gallery show is next month. If you're sober and you still want to see me...we can talk then."

"I can't do this without you, Brendon..." Gerard whispered. 

"He can't help you with something like this," Vicky said, her hands on her hips in the kitchen doorway. "He's got his own demons to deal with. He can't deal with yours, too."

"You made him cry, nobody makes Brendon cry," Nate said. 

"I didn't mean to," Gerard said. "I just wanted him to move in with me and it turned into this big thing."

"What do you think I should do?" Brendon asked Alex, quiet enough that Gerard couldn't hear. 

"What do you think you should do?" Alex whispered. "He's your boyfriend. You're the one that has to deal with this, not us."

"But...what do you _think_?" Brendon repeated.

"Are you sure you love him enough to stick with him through this? All the way? Because it's probably going to be harder than it is fun," Alex said.

Brendon turned to look at Gerard. Maybe Brendon had overreacted. Maybe it was just a stupid fight. 

"Yeah?" Gerard asked, his eyes wet. 

"I'll come by tomorrow. I have ice cream now," Brendon said.

Gerard glanced around and nodded. 

"Okay. Okay. We'll talk tomorrow. Thanks, guys, for letting me in."

"You're on probation," Ryland said, pointing at him. 

"At least I know why now," Gerard said, glancing at Brendon again and walking out. 

"Are you sure about that? Why are you listening to Alex?" Vicky swatted his head. 

"It's up to him and we don't get involved in relationship drama unless there are bruises," Alex reminded her.. 

"He's right. Bden's got to make his own decisions," Ryland said. 

Vicky handed him a dish of ice cream and snuggled back on his empty side. 

"Sorry. Are you going to take him back?"

"I don't know. Depends. He's got a lot going on and I shouldn't put this on him right now. I think I'll...give him another chance. Give us another chance. Maybe. I did...overreact, I guess," he said.

"Are you sure it wasn't just building up?" Vicky asked.

"Maybe," Brendon conceded. 

"Some guys need you to fight with them sometimes, blow off steam. And he came after you," Nate said. 

"He made Brendon cry, he's still on serious probation," Ryland said. 

"I'll figure it out. Thanks, guys," Brendon said.

"We're not your parents, we'll support you no matter what you do, as long as you're not in danger," Vicky whispered. "Now eat your ice cream."

*** ***

He didn't officially move in, he just didn't go home. Even less than he had before the argument.

Brendon didn't have a lot of experience with addiction, outside of some 'educational' videos in high school and his recent immersion in R-rated movies, so he wasn't sure what to expect when Gerard went on the wagon completely.

Gerard was trying harder than Brendon expected, though. And Mikey, who had gone through it before, said it was different than his other attempts. 

He had also met a couple of pre-rift friends of Gerard's who had come over tentatively to see how he was now that the 'borders had been reopened,' as Mikey put it.

They seemed nice enough, if a little rougher around the edges than his own friends, more like Gerard. Ray and Bob, the only two he'd met in person so far, seemed pretty wary of him but Brendon didn't let it scare him off. 

Brendon wasn't going to leave Gerard when he was getting sober. He was even looking forward to things a little. 

He loved Gerard. 

He would make it through the hard part, he just had to stay tough.

The first day -- after they'd taken all the liquor out of the house and stocked the fridge for a few days and bunkered down -- wasn't the worst, but it gave Brendon an idea of exactly how hard it was going to be. 

Gerard couldn't stop shaking. He couldn't hold a glass of water, or the remote. He shivered from cold even though he was sweating through his clothes. 

It was around five when he got sick and even though Mikey had warned him, Brendon didn't expect Gerard to start throwing up all over himself, sitting right there on the couch. 

He knew how to deal with sick people because of his mom's volunteer work, but he didn't know how to deal with this kind of 'sick'. 

Mikey helped Brendon get Gerard upstairs to the bathroom and Brendon got him relatively cleaned up in the shower and built him a little blanket pallet near the toilet for the next few hours before the dry heaves hit and he got Gerard in bed. 

Gerard started to hallucinate the next morning and clung to Brendon, muttering nonsense in his ear about demons and bat wings and spiders and blood, and Brendon ignored the finger bruises on his arms and tried to get him to drink enough water and keep down the ibuprofen. 

Gerard finally passed out around dawn the following day with at least half a bowl of soup on his stomach and a Tylenol PM, hopefully to help him sleep and to make him less frayed for the morning. Or longer, depending on how long he slept. 

Brendon left him alone long to get a shower himself before tiptoeing out of the room to find something to eat. 

He recognized Mikey's voice downstairs and hoped he would take a turn sitting with Gee while he was sleeping so Brendon could get a nap, too. 

_"What's Gee doing with that guy anyway? What is he, like, fourteen?"_

_"Brendon's a really nice guy,_ " Mikey replied. 

He liked Mikey, too, for more than for his loyalty to his brother now.

_"Not really Gee's type. I just don't understand why Gee would even talk to him. Yeah, he's cute in a Disney kind of way, but he's a pussy."_

He caught the Bob guy's voice then and sat down on the stair to keep listening. It would be nice to know where he stood before he went downstairs to face them all. 

_"You don't know him like that. I only know what Gee's told me, but the kid's been through a lot. He was really religious and I think something happened and he got adopted by these rich kids downtown. Gee says he thinks they're just fucking him around, but he's a really nice guy."_

_"So he's mooching off Gerard's money."_

_"I don't think Gerard gives him money, but I think the rich kids do."_

_"Why are you defending him?"_

_"Because he's the one that got Gerard to forgive me - to fucking talk to me. He's the one that Gee's getting sober for. So no matter how much we don't understand, he's good for Gerard."_

_"You know Gerard's going to ditch him as soon as he gets bored,"_ Bob said. 

_"He's here now. Be nice, Bob."_

Brendon steadied himself under the weight of the new revelations and made sure to step on the squeaky stair to let them know he was coming in. 

"Hey," Mikey greeted him immediately as he came down. "How is he?"

"Sleeping. Is there any coffee?" Brendon asked.

"Sorry. Last cup," Bob said, raising his mug.

"I'll start a new one," Mikey said, glaring at Bob. 

"No, it's cool. You mind sitting with him a while? He's been pretty fucked up so he should be out for a few hours," Brendon said, opening the fridge.

The sodas and bottled water were all gone and the milk was the wrong color and it pissed him off that they hadn't saved him anything when he'd been stuck upstairs this whole time by himself. 

He closed the fridge and walked outside onto the porch, pulling out his phone and texting Vicky. 

She texted him back within minutes, promising to bring coffee and sandwiches for him.

He hoped Gerard would get better soon. He wouldn't mind being around Gerard's friends if Gerard were there to at least distract them from their distaste.

He pulled his cigarettes from his pocket and tried to get himself settled enough to sit with Gerard again. He knew he should nap, but he didn't want to sleep while Bob was still in the house.. 

He heard the door open and didn't have to glance up to know it was Bob because his boots were louder than anyone else's. 

"Mikey's upstairs with Gee, he said he'll come get you if he wakes up," Bob said, sitting in the chair beside him. 

"Okay."

Bob's eyes scanned him and then widened in alarm. "What happened to your arms?"

Brendon glanced down. "Oh. Gee was freaking out. You didn't hear him yelling? He's got really creepy hallucinations."

"Ow. I haven't been here that long."

He shrugged. 

"It's going to be worth it. I don't know much about this, but I want to say the worst is over."

"I hope so. I miss my friend," Bob said. 

Brendon nodded Vicky's car pulled up to the curb in front of Gerard’s house. Brendon walked out to the street to meet her. 

"You look like shit," Vicky said, getting out of the car with a takeout bag in one hand and a large to-go cup from Ryland’s in the other. 

"Thanks. Starving," Brendon said, taking the coffee first and taking a long, blessed sip. It was perfect, still warm and just the way he liked it. 

"How's he doing?" she asked, handing him the bag. It was heavier than he expected, and he glanced down to see that there was enough food inside for several meals and then some.

"Better, I hope. I'll tell you everything when he's good enough for me to leave," Brendon said.

Vicky nodded, her eyes flicking to Bob and back to him. 

"How are _you_?"

"Tired. But it's going to be worth it," Brendon repeated. It had to be worth it. 

"Yeah. And you'll have lots of time to sleep then because I'll make sure of it. At least you're clean. Get back to your boy and call me if you need me."

He embraced her. "I will. And I'm going to look forward to those naps. I miss you guys so much," he whispered.

"I'll text you in a couple of hours," she said, kissing his cheek and pressing their foreheads together for a quick moment. 

Brendon squeezed her close and waited until she'd pulled away from the curb to go back to the porch. 

Bob watched him sit down and place his coffee carefully beside his chair so he could root around in the bag. There were several sandwiches, chips and cookies and a couple of covered containers he couldn’t identify at first glance. 

"That was nice of her," Bob said, nodding to the bag and blowing out a puff of smoke. 

"Yeah. She's really nice to me," Brendon said, choosing one of the sandwiches and tucking the rest of the stuff back into the bag for later. He put the rest of it beside his coffee and unwrapped the sandwich. Turkey with avocado and bacon, his favorite, but he felt exposed with Bob staring at him. He finally turned to Bob, putting his sandwich down in his lap. 

"You don't have to watch me, I'm just trying to eat."

"Sorry. Small talk's not my thing."

"Then why are you trying? You're Gerard's friend, I don't expect you to be mine," Brendon said. "You've already made up your mind about me, and I'm too tired to care right now about how you feel. But you're really making me nervous and right now I need a time out, okay?"

Bob leaned back in his chair and snorted. 

"I don't care if you're nervous or not."

"Brendon? Gee's awake, he's asking for you," Mikey said, walking out onto the porch and glancing at the two of them. 

"Okay," Brendon said. He dropped the sandwich in Bob's lap, making him look up in surprise. "Enjoy."

"You can take it upstairs, asshole," Bob snapped. 

"The smell of food makes him feel sick, I just offered to bring him some," Mikey said. "What are you guys doing out here?"

"Thanks, Mikey," Brendon sighed, patting him on the shoulder and hurrying up the stairs to see if Gee was okay. 

Gerard smiled tiredly from the bed when he came in and Brendon stretched out beside him. 

It would all be worth it.

*** *** ***

 _"Brendon, it's Kara. I got your number from Mason. He says you're doing well. I hope that's true, even if you don't believe me. Since...it's been so long...I accept now that you're not throwing a tantrum. You really mean this. And you've been trying to keep in touch and I...want to offer a peace branch. You're still my baby brother and I love you and...there are other things we can talk about other than church or whatever. I just...wanted to hear your voice. I hope I'll talk to you soon."_

*** *** ***


	3. three

**-part three-**

"Do you want me to stay here tonight?" Brendon asked. He and Gerard may have talked some things through, and he may still spend more nights than not in Gerard’s bed, but he hadn’t quite been able to give up his room at Vicky T’s. 

It was Gerard's fourth week sober and he'd been going to AA meetings every night. 

Gerard's friends had been over every night, too. 

Brendon was tired, and even though Gerard kept him close, he was bored. Not with Gerard, but sitting around watching Gee's friends play video games when he could be playing piano at Alex's or seeing Nate's new crush play the Vinson Club with his band, or -- well, it was getting a little tiring.

And then there was Frank, the new friend Gerard had met at his meetings. . 

Frank wasn't an addict, but he was playing escort for a friend like Brendon did for Gerard. Brendon had given Frank a light one night while they were all waiting to go in, and Gerard had noticed one of his many tattoos and commented on it. Brendon could see the instant connection between them, even if he had hoped he was imagining it. 

Brendon knew Gerard loved him, and he didn't have any reason not to trust him. And having Frank around made it easier for him to stay invisible in front of Gerard's friends.. It helped that he thought Frank was straight, but he trusted Gerard even if he wasn't.

"Don't you want to?" Gerard asked, turning his head away from the TV immediately. 

"Your friends are here..." Brendon started.

" _Our_ friends," Gerard said.

"Yeah, but my friends are going out to hear this band and I -- kind of -- want to go with them," Brendon said. "And Frank's taking you to your meeting later... I don’t know, I thought maybe it would be fun. You could hang out with the guys without having me there dragging you down."

Gerard nodded finally, cupping his cheek. "I love you, yeah?"

"Yeah," Brendon said, kissing him and feeling warm all over. 

"Be careful. Call me when you guys get back, or come over," Gerard said. 

"I will."

He nodded goodbye to Mikey, who was sitting next to Gerard on the couch, retrieved his jacket and walked outside. 

He was used to the walk back and forth to Vicky’s by now and was cataloging what he would wear tonight when he heard Bob call out to him from the curb, where he was standing beside his car, an old red Mazda with black racing stripes and mismatched doors. 

"I can give you a ride if you want," he said as Brendon reached the sidewalk. 

"I'm good, thanks. Have fun," Brendon said with a tight smile. 

Bob had been trying to suck up to him since Gerard had agreed to go to AA, but Brendon had enough friends that he didn't have to impress to worry about Bob and his motives. 

He was humming along to his iPod when he reached the house and saw Ryland was sitting on the porch. He stood up as Brendon came up the steps and gave him a one-armed hug, then led him inside for a couple of hours of bong hits and music trivia time to 'check up on his education'. 

Brendon didn't drink at the club – he’d been staying sober, too, out of loyalty to Gerard -- but he danced with Vicky and Alex, and even Nate's boyfriend a little and they all went out for waffles afterward.

It was more fun than he'd had with Gerard in a while. He wasn't sure what that meant. 

He didn't know if he'd ever settle in at Gerard's now that Gerard's friends were back in his life. He hated what that said about him, but he just wasn't comfortable around them. But they made Gerard happy, and Brendon and Gerard were having sex again so he hoped that things were getting better. 

Things always got better. Or at least leveled out again.

And he wanted something level. 

He asked Vicky and Alex to drop him off back at Gerard’s and he went in to face his boyfriend's friends and hopefully convince Gerard to take a shower with him or something else that involved being naked. 

"Hey, Brendon. Gee's downstairs showing Frank some of his paintings. You look like you had fun," Mikey said, sitting on the counter in the kitchen with Bob and Ray leaning against the opposite one. 

"Yeah, I did. The band was great, they had a keytar, and the dance floor was crazy, you guys would've hated it," Brendon said, smiling. 

They laughed and Brendon almost believed they meant it good-naturedly. Brendon gave them a wave and walked down the stairs. 

He should have known something was weird when he didn't hear the stereo playing, but seeing Frank pressed against the wall with Gerard leaning over him, kissing him the way he was only supposed to kiss Brendon wasn't what Brendon expected at all. 

He lost his breath and had to put his hand against the wall to hold himself up. 

Had Gerard just been waiting for him to take a night away? Had Frank been after Gerard the whole time, just waiting to make a move?

After everything Brendon had done to make the relationship work...this was what happened?

He forced himself to take a breath. 

"Frank,” he said, raising his voice slightly but forcing it to stay calm and level, “Can you give me and Gee a few minutes?"

Gerard jerked away from Frank as though Brendon had shot him and went paler than Brendon thought was possible. 

"Brendon, shit, look, it's..." Frank started to say, his eyes wide. 

"Can I talk to Gerard?" Brendon asked, cutting him off, grateful his voice didn't break.

He wouldn't let Gerard make him cry again. 

He wouldn't be a pussy in front of Gerard's stupid friends. 

Frank took a couple of wary steps, glanced at Gerard and rushed up the stairs, his footsteps shaking the canvases scattered around the basement on their easels. 

"Brendon...I..." Gerard started, but all Brendon could do was stare at the swollen lips that Gerard had gotten from kissing _Frank_.

"First boyfriend. First alcoholic. First heartbreak," Brendon said, walking towards him. . "I learned a lot from you, I guess. I wish you'd told me, but I'm not sure anything would make it hurt less. Just -- tell me the truth, Gee, this one time. Did you ever love me? Did I ever do anything for you other than get you off?"

"Brendon, yes, you're...everything, you've done...everything, I didn't...I love you!" Gerard stuttered, reaching out for Brendon. . 

"If you loved me you wouldn't be kissing someone else, I would've done anything for you and you threw it back in my face. I'm not stupid, but loving you has made me act like I’m stupid," Brendon said, clenching his fists and shaking off Gerard's attempt to touch him. "I hate you so much right now."

" _Please_ ," Gerard whispered, streaks of tears running down his flushed cheeks. 

"I'll send somebody for my stuff. And I'll tell Mikey where your bills and stuff are," Brendon said, his voice finally shaking, no longer under control. . He took a step back and tried not to trip in his rush to get up the stairs. 

Mikey and Ray looked over immediately when he emerged back into the kitchen, but Bob remained where he was, glaring at Frank, who was huddled in the far corner. 

"So, I'm out," Brendon said, glad to hear his voice sounded steady again. "Mikey, you have to get his mail from his P.O. box – he forgets. The key's over there, and if you write the checks, he'll sign them. And his agent’s and doctor appointments are on the calendar by the closet in his room."

"Brendon, please," Gerard said from the top of the stairs behind him. 

Brendon didn’t turn around. Instead, he met Mikey's eyes. 

"You can call me if you have questions. But I'm out," he repeated.

"Okay. You want me to drive you home?" Mikey asked after a moment. 

"That would be really nice. Thank you," Brendon said. 

"Mikey, wait, I need..." Gerard started.

"You're going to stay here and shut your mouth until he's gone," Bob snapped, startling them all into silence. 

Brendon walked out of the kitchen, still not looking back, not even taking a breath until Mikey joined him on the sidewalk and popped the locks on his car.

He didn't want to talk and he was grateful Mikey didn't ask him to, letting him sit in silence the whole way home.

***

Clean breaks were best. That was Vicky's advice and he was trying his best to stick to it. 

It had worked for his parents, so maybe he had to try it out for himself. Deaden the love and focus on something else. Something that didn't hurt.

He'd hurt his parents so he deserved to get cut off. And Gerard had hurt him. 

On the fifth day he’d spent in bed eating nothing but ice cream and listening to nothing but Radiohead, Vicky T staged an intervention. She walked into his room with an overnight bag and, without talking to him, started packing. He had a moment of panic before Alex appeared in the doorway, shook his head, and then hauled him up by the armpits, yanking him out of the bed and hustling him down to the shower. Three hours later, he found himself in an airplane, in a first class seat between Alex and Vicky, stealing swallows of their cocktails on their way to visit a 'friend' in New York.

He hadn't talked to Gerard and he'd given his phone to Alex to field the calls from Mikey, and – weirdly -- Bob, but all in all, he was doing fine in the way that he wasn't doing fine at all.

All he wanted to do was get drunk and find someone to fuck him stupid so he could forget about Gerard and all the baggage he was now dragging around because of him.. 

He was hoping the trip to New York would help him get back to normal. At least, whatever he had that passed for normal once he’d left his mission. 

"So, you still haven't told me who your friend is," Brendon said, leaning his head on Vicky's shoulder. 

"You have to meet him. Gabe's indescribable," Alex said. 

"He's also a little insane, so watch yourself around him," Ryland warned from across the aisle. "I love the fucker, but he's more erratic than a Mexican jumping bean in a crack pipe."

"Nice," Nate snorted from next to him. 

"I think a little insanity might be fun for a few days," Brendon said.

"Shopping, and New York food --fancy and street -- and clubs that will make you have a seizure before the music even starts," Vicky reeled off. "You're going to fucking love it, Brenny, I promise."

He smiled and finished her drink.   
"Rock and roll," he said weakly. 

"Hell yeah," Alex laughed. 

He saw Gabe for the first time as a tornado of neon and flannel when he rushed Vicky T at baggage claim, swinging her around despite her hilariously furious face and kissing her hard on the mouth before she kneed him in the balls. 

He let her go with a harsh laugh, not missing a beat -- even if he was limping a little -- to double-hug Nate and Alex before greeting Ryland with a complicated hand and booty shake that made Brendon laugh out loud. 

Gabe's eyes were vibrant and dark, and when he trained his attention on Brendon, Brendon shivered in spite of himself. 

"Who is this adorable prince of tiny?" Gabe demanded, looking Brendon up and down. Brendon stared as Gabe fell to one knee in front of him and took his hand, kissing his knuckles. 

"You're so cheesy, loser. This is Brendon," Vicky said, smiling widely.

"Brendon. You're my new favorite," Gabe said, saying the name like he was tasting it.

This was going to be interesting.

At least Gabe didn't remind him of Gerard at all.

*** *** ***

 _"What are you doing in New York?"_

_"We went to the Empire State Building today. It was nice. I liked Rockefeller Center more, though."_

_"Sounds like fun."_

_"How's...home?"_

_"We miss you. But everything's fine. Mom found out that Mason's getting the postcards and...she didn't say it outright, but she was relieved."_

_"Thanks for saying so, Kara. We're going to Central Park for a few hours now;, they've got a jazz band playing."_

_"You'll love that. Do you still play?"_

_"Yeah. I do. Next Wednesday, same time?"_

_"I love you, Brendon."_

_"Love you, too."_

*** ***

"I want to fuck you. Bend your ass over the coffee table and pound you until you forget your name," Gabe whispered in his ear.

Brendon liked Gabe. And he was learning how to handle his constant flirtation. 

He put down his mojito and straddled his surprised new friend, kissing him hard with lots of tongue before pulling away and putting the back of his hand to his forehead like a southern belle. "Your words spark love in my heart, let's fuck right now," he said in a terrible Southern accent before flicking Gabe on the ear and moving back into his seat beside him.

"The force is strong with you," Gabe said, eyes widening, ignoring their friends' laughter. 

He was intrigued by Gabe because he was energetic and funny as shit, but he never talked about anything personal. He could tell that Vicky and Ryland were worried, but Brendon was just along for the distraction and didn't want to make things worse by asking questions. 

"All right, guys, down to business. You want to drop some acid?" Gabe asked.

"Are you doing that again? I thought that was only on special occasions," Alex said warily.

"I'm hanging out with my friends after months away. This is special to me. What do you say, Mr. Brendon?" Gabe asked.

"I’ve never done it before," Brendon admitted. But there was a flutter of curiosity in his stomach. "I'm in if they are," he shrugged.

"Daring. I can't let Brenny journey into the weird alone," Nate said. 

"I hate all of you. Cubes or paper?" Vicky sighed.

Brendon wasn't sure what that meant but Gabe shook his head and pulled out a small dropper with a flourish. 

"I feel that this is possibly a really bad idea," Ryland said, sticking out his tongue nonetheless. 

Gabe grinned wickedly and gave Ryland two drops. 

Brendon didn't have a bad feeling, though, as he stuck out his own tongue and took the single drop Gabe squeezed into his mouth. It was slightly metallic but after a moment, it didn't taste like anything.

He got distracted by making new drinks and almost forgot about it until he saw his skin moving in slow waves across his bones. It was like he had tiny rollers under his skin. 

"Nate. Nate. Look at my arm," he said. 

"Dude, I can see you with my eyes closed," Nate replied.

Brendon blinked at him. "Your eyes are open."

"Dude, that's awesome. Oh, wow, look at your arm," Nate said, taking his wrist and pulling him away from the ice bucket and over to the couch. 

Vicky was sitting on the floor with her head tipped back so she could stare at the ceiling.

"Vicky, look at Bren's arm, it's awesome."

"You're tripping. Brenny, get over here and away from Nate. You guys should look up there."

Things seemed to go in slow motion, but he settled beside her on the floor and tried to see what she did on the ceiling. 

"Oh my God, Gabe thinks we're Indians," Alex said, now dressed only in his boxers, skidding across the room on his knees, and knocking the coffee table over. 

Brendon wondered if Gabe could afford to pay for damages to this suite. 

Ryland walked in, shirtless too, but at least still wearing pants, with blown pupils and red lipstick lines drawn on his face. There was a smiley face in the middle of his forehead.

"You are the happiest Indian ever," Brendon said. "I want to be an Indian."

"We are all Indians tonight, and we shall dance for rain," Gabe said solemnly, walking out with a tube of lipstick held out like it was sacred. Gabe was wearing zebra striped briefs and Brendon found himself staring at thelines swimming over his bulge behind the flap.

"Yay, rain," Brendon said, giggling when Gabe's words caught up to him. 

"I paid a lot for these shoes. They shouldn't get wet," Vicky said. 

"We'll dance for an umbrella for you," Brendon suggested. 

"That's kind of stupid to dance for rain and then dance for umbrellas because you don't like rain," Alex pointed out. 

"I think it's awesome," Brendon said. He glanced down. "My arm's doing that weird thing again."

*** ***

"I think you're aces," Gabe said.

Their friends had all fallen asleep but Brendon was in this weird fugue state -- too tired to function but too wired to sleep. 

"Do people even say that anymore?" Brendon murmured. He and Gabe were lying hip to hip, but it was too much trouble to turn his head to see him. . 

"Are you dating anyone? Not that I want to date you.I'd just like to have some fun of the naked variety with you," Gabe whispered.

They were on the balcony, pretending to see the stars in the too-bright city sky.

"I broke up with my boyfriend exactly a week ago tomorrow," Brendon said. 

"Ouch," Gabe said. 

"So if there is fun of the naked variety, it would have to be the no-strings kind."

"My girlfriend dumped me last month. I paid her way through dance school, gave her jobs in my videos and then she left me for a fashion photographer with a bottomless bag of cocaine," Gabe said. 

"Ouch," Brendon said. .

"You seem a little young, but there's something about you. I'd be honored to be your rebound fuck if you feel like you'd be into that," Gabe said huskily.

Brendon laughed. 

"Vicky T would kill me. Well, probably she’d kill you, because I'm her favorite, but still. Murder's _bad_."

Gabe raised himself up on one elbow and leaned over to kiss Brendon gently on the lips.   
"You have a gorgeous mouth, you know? And I think your hips would fit perfectly in my hands," he said.

"Interesting argument. Let me counter with, uh, you're a fucking giant," Brendon said, raising an eyebrow and giggling. . 

"I haven't broken anyone yet. I'll take good care of you," Gabe promised.

Brendon considered it. 

"I made my ex wait a long time before I fucked him. I thought that was the 'right' thing to do. But it didn't matter, you know? I helped him get sober, I lost ten pounds and a shitload of sleep for him. And it wouldn't have mattered if he'd cared about me afterwards. I just feel used. Stupid."

"Sounds like he's an asshole."

"I think I need to stop wanting people to treat me differently than they’re capable of doing. But I think I've learned enough to be able to get fucked hard across a coffee table and not expect to get a phone call the next morning. I think that's sort of what I need right now to get over all that wasted time," Brendon said. 

"We just need to remember how to make ourselves happy too,” Gabe said, then paused for a moment, as if making a decision.“You want to go to the bedroom so I can suck your cock?" 

Brendon thought it over. 

"I think I would like that very much. But how would that be making you happy?"

"Why wouldn’t sucking your cock make me happy? Also, you're going to return the favor, of course. It's only polite," Gabe said. 

Brendon laughed and pushed himself up on his elbow to kiss Gabe more fiercely this time. 

"Manners are very important," he agreed when he pulled back.

*** ***

He slept better in the days after his first acid trip then he had in weeks, although he suspected that had more to do with the sex than the drugs. 

Gabe was much more affectionate than anyone he'd ever met, and Brendon liked it. He had always been a tactile person and learning to rein in his hugs and cuddles had been one of his lifelong struggles. And Gerard hadn’t been big on physical affection outside of the bedroom. But Gabe was nearly as handsy as Brendon. 

Vicky T had rolled her eyes the first time Gabe ambushed him with a kiss over bagels in the suite, and Ryland and Nate had both punched Gabe in the arm when he did it in front of them for the first time when they were all in a cab together. Alex had just snickered and given Brendon a thumbs up, which had, in turn, made Gabe punch Alex in the arm instead.

It was weird, but because his friends loved Gabe like they loved Brendon – and each other -- Brendon trusted him. And he fucking loved Gabe’s crazy side.

He needed to purge his system of the momentary lack of intelligence that had made him get involved with Gerard Way, and Gabe was pretty much the best distraction Brendon could think of. Gabe had outrageous ideas -- like piggy-back rides on the Ferry and leaving condoms for tips in restaurants – and his crazy schemes helped take Brendon’s mind off things more than anything else.

Well, anything else apart from very enthusiastic sex with Gabe Saporta, that was. Gabe was a big fan of the Kama Sutra, among other things, and Brendon had never known that people's legs could bend like that, especially not his own. He was impressed enough that he’d snuck out one afternoon to buy a copy of his own, just so he’d have an idea of what might be coming next. 

It didn't mean that he didn't think about Gerard. Hell, he thought about him all the time. But it definitely helped. 

They had been in New York for a week when Ryland announced he had to go home and check on the shop and Nate remembered that he had a cat. 

Gabe came with them and Brendon was secretly glad. He wanted to have something to distract him from the proximity of Gerard. 

Gabe had finally told the rest of them about his breakup and Brendon had discovered that he'd been planning to propose before she left him. 

Brendon started to wonder if Vicky and the others had planned to get them together so that he and Gabe could each rebound with someone they trusted, but he was never sure what was a game to them and what was just coincidence. 

"Did you have fun?" Vicky asked when they were walking up the stairs of Gabe's private plane. He had figured out that Gabe was hella-successful at whatever it was he did.

"Do you even have to ask? Thanks," Brendon said, kissing her on the cheek. 

"Any time. You know we hate it when you're broody, it makes us all feel bad. And you and Gabe are already looking better, no matter how kinky and depraved you're being behind those locked doors," Vicky snickered.

"You just wish it was you," Brendon teased.

"Hey, I taught you everything you know," Vicky answered.

He laughed. 

"Yeah, you really did."

Gabe swooped in and threw his arms around Brendon, twisting him around. 

"Now, young Jedi, it is time for your induction into the mile-high club." 

"It's an impossibly short flight," Vicky said.

"That's why we must get started right now," Gabe said. 

"I'll be back," Brendon said, letting Gabe pull him into the small sleeping compartment and closing the door.

"Much better than a tiny bathroom, and only the best for you," Gabe said. 

"How much time do we have?" Brendon asked. "Clothes on or off?"

"On, we don't have time for off, but once we're back on solid ground, we'll have all the naked time you can imagine, my house totally has a pool and hot tub," Gabe said. 

"Then let's get this going," Brendon said with a grin, making grabby hands for him.

Gabe pounced on the bed, growling when he held Brendon down to kiss him.

He was pliable under Gabe's hands, arching into his kiss and working to get Gabe unzipped. 

"Don't we have to wait until the plane takes off first?" Brendon said, laughing, when Gabe leaned back to tug his pants down.

"Semantics, they mean nothing to me," Gabe replied.

*** *** ***

 _"What are you doing for your birthday?"_

_"I haven't really thought about it. I don't know if my friends even know when it is; I didn’t tell them. We're celebrating the anniversary of my first night here, though. We're having a huge party - maybe even a clown, if it doesn't look like a mime. They really hate mimes."_

_"So...you're not celebrating your birthday, but you're celebrating the day you left your family behind?"_

_"I didn't want to leave my family behind. I wanted to leave the church behind, Mason. I know there’s no difference to you, but it was different to me. I don't feel like celebrating the day I was born into the family that doesn’t want me anymore, doesn’t think I’m good enough. . I'm celebrating the day that I found people who love me for who I am."_

_"We love you. And you should celebrate your birthday, it's..."_

_"It's nice of you to think about me. You have to understand how it is for me, Mase. I have to start over because I can't go back. Mom and Dad made sure of that. There's nothing really left of that life for me to hold on to. The memories don't really mean as much now that I've been disowned. It's like all of those 'I love you's' have a 'but' attached to the end now."_

_"I hate it when you talk like that."_

_"But there's nothing you can really say. I've got to go, we're going to this vegan restaurant and I'm going to try to give up cheeseburgers. Maybe."_

_"Ouch. Good luck with that. I'll call you in a couple of days, okay?"_

_"Bye, Mase."_

*** ***

"Ooh, look, Bren, there's a skydiving school a couple of miles from here," Gabe said, flipping through the phone book where he was stretched across Ryland's counter in the coffee shop. 

"Oh yeah? Thank you, please come again," Brendon smiled at the customer, passing her a cup and waiting for her to leave to process Gabe's words. " Skydiving? Seriously?"

"Have you ever?" Gabe asked.

"No, I've never even wanted to," Brendon said with a laugh. . 

"Me, either, but let's do it. Jump out of a plane and just... _fall_ ," Gabe said. 

"Sounds scary as shit," Brendon said. 

"It'll be awesome, something neither of us has ever done," Gabe said. 

"There are other things. What about -- bungee jumping? We could do that first, and it'd be relatively safer, right?" Brendon suggested.

"Now you're getting into it - we go bungee jumping, make sure we can deal and then we'll fly . . ." Gabe started, stopping suddenly when the bell jingled to let him know they had a customer.

Brendon turned towards the door but the greeting froze on his lips when he recognized Gerard. 

"Hey. You're back. The shop's been closed for, like, weeks," Gee said. 

"Not that long. What are you doing here?" Brendon asked. Gerard looked sober, at least. 

"The infamous Gerard Way. Come to try and fuck up Brendon's life some more?" Gabe asked, his voice cold. 

Gerard glared at him for a moment before turning back to Brendon. 

"Can we talk?"

"No. What are you doing here?" Brendon asked. 

"I came to talk to you. I don't...I don't want you to hate me," Gerard said. 

Brendon couldn't meet his eyes. 

"I don't want to talk to you."

"You want me to kick his ass?" Gabe asked, from his perch on the couch. 

"Who the fuck are you?" Gerard snapped, finally turning to face him. . 

"None of your business," Brendon said. "Not any more. I don't want to talk to you. Not now."

"You won't talk to Mikey, at least listen to me. Brendon, I fucking love you, and I don't want it to end like this - not this way," Gerard said. 

Gabe got up from where he was perched on the couch without a word and came behind the counter to put his hand on Brendon's waist. Brendon turned his face into Gabe’s chest and let Gabe hold him close. 

"He said he doesn't want to talk to you, asshole. If he changes his mind, he knows where you are. Leave him alone - haven't you hurt him enough?"

"I'm...sorry. I don't...I'm sorry," Gerard stuttered.

"You're always sorry. I did everything I was supposed to do, everything you fucking asked me to do and you ditched me as soon as you found someone better. Like I didn't even matter to you at all, so fuck you. I'm done being somebody that's easy to ditch. For anyone. One day I'm going to mean something to someone, but you've already shown me that it won’t be you," Brendon blurted out, spinning around to face Gerard, but letting Gabe keep his arms around him. Gabe pulled him back against his chest and Brendon kept his eyes pinched closed until he heard the bell jingle and the door close.

"Good for you. Fuck him. You're too special for anybody to ever make you feel like that," Gabe whispered. 

Brendon sighed, pulling away. He hadn’t cried while Gerard was there, and he didn’t now, but it was sad that he thought of that as an accomplishment in his head. 

"Anything else I can do?" Gabe asked.

"Actually -- there is. I want to get a tattoo. Will you come with me? And afterward, I want to get really drunk and sing karaoke, the cheesier the better," Brendon said. 

"Okay, I'll call the guys. Not about the tattoo, or Vicky might actually hurt me, but about the karaoke.” Gabe huffed his shoulders and let him go, but he stopped at the edge of the counter, drumming a nervous tattoo against the wood. “You need a big pick-me-up like that every time you have an encounter with the ex?” His voice was gentle, but Brendon felt himself flush with embarrassment. He took a deep breath and looked out onto the empty street. 

"It's my birthday,” he said after a minute. Don't tell anyone, but I'm twenty today." 

Gabe's eyes went wide. 

"Do the guys know?" he demanded. Brendon shrugged. 

"Not -- no," he said, wrapping his arms around himself. "I didn't want to think about all the other birthdays with my family and shit. This is my first one out here, but I didn’t think...I don't want to celebrate it, it’s not the same. I want it to be a day just for me, a day that I have to recognize all that I've learned since I got here.. The day that I met Vicky – the day I left my mission -- I want that to be my celebration day. It’s the day I was freed," Brendon said. It was a couple of months away still, but he was already thinking about it.

"Well, it's your day, then. But you told me, so I'm going to be the one to make sure you get to have it," Gabe said. "Are you sure about the tattoo?"

"Yes. I know exactly what I want," Brendon said. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.” . 

"All right. Maybe I'll get my nipples pierced," Gabe said. 

"Ooh, me, too. That's hot," Brendon said. "I'd get my tongue pierced, but I don't want my tongue to be all swollen when I'm kicking ass at karaoke tonight."

"Good plan. But a tattoo's a serious commitment. I want you to really think about it while I make the appointments and call the guys. Close up the shop, I’ll explain to Ryland later,” Gabe said, kissing him and hugging him again, “And then I'm going to blow you right here behind the counter.It'll drive Ryland nuts when he watches the security video." 

"Awesome," Brendon said. 

He wasn't going to let Gerard ruin his birthday.

*** ***

"I can't believe you got a tattoo," Vicky said, her bangles jostling his beer when she lazily reached over to grab his wrist and pull him closer in the booth.

They were all a little drunk but he was having a good time. It was like New York, and he hadn't stopped smiling since he had gotten the music notes across his inner arm. It was four bars, with a melody that Gabe had been humming since he had seen the finished product. 

Brendon didn't know where it had come from, but it was a tune that had come out of his fingers no matter which instrument he had picked up since he moved in with Vicky. He considered it his anthem, even if he didn't have the words to match it yet. 

His own personal soundtrack, now inked on his arm. He just hoped that by this time the next year came, he'd have words, or at least a follow-up verse. 

"It looks good on you," Vicky said. "And you sounded amazing up there.You rocked Journey."

"I used to love to sing. Thanks, you're like my fairy godsister," Brendon said.

She laughed, kissing him on his sweaty cheek. "The day you knocked on my door is, like, the high point of the past five years for me. Happy birthday, loser," she whispered. 

"Gabe's got such a big mouth, good for blowjobs but not for secrets," Brendon laughed. 

"I get it. You don't want it to be a big deal."

"Oh, Vicky, you make every day feel like my birthday, you know? You're the only reason I've made it this long, that I feel like I can still make it. I'll never be able to pay you back for all that you've done for me." 

Vicky hugged him tightly. 

"Happy birthday, Brenny, seriously."

"Seriously, save it until our anniversary," Brendon said, taking a sip of his drink. "You want to know another secret?"

She glared at him, shaking her manicured nail. 

"Yes, now."

He giggled and raised up his shirt so she could see the shiny piercings in his nipples.

"Sexy bitch, I just want to maul you," Vicky laughed, pushing him down and tickling him into the vinyl of the booth's seat. 

"Uncle, uncle!" he gasped. 

"All right," Vicky laughed, releasing him. 

"You're going to get me all hot and bothered down here," Brendon said.

"Hey, if you want me to follow through, just say the word. Me and Alex are down, and Gabe's _bendy_ ," Vicky growled, kissing his neck.

"You're so drunk right now," Brendon said. But she smelled really good and he kissed her back. She always was a great kisser. 

The flash of the cameras broke them apart and Gabe and Alex were laughing at them. 

"You're a little drunk, too," Vicky said, wiping her mouth. 

"We sent Nate and Ryland home and our cab's on the way," Alex said. 

"How do you feel about a naked gathering of old friends?" Gabe asked, sliding into the booth. 

"I think that you're making my handbasket ride the most awesome ride ever," Brendon said. "Let's get good-luck shots and get to the orgy."

"I love the way you think," Gabe said, laughing, , and kissed him deeply, mixing his taste with Vicky's on his lips. "Get over here."

He had been dizzy enough before Gabe threw him over his shoulder and walked him unsteadily to the bar in a fireman’s carry. 

He didn't mind going to hell if it was this much fun. That wasn't true, but he wasn't worrying about excuses right now. He was going to have great sex with his best friends on his birthday. 

He made out with Alex on the cab ride home while Gabe sucked on his neck and Vicky rubbed her hand up and down Alex's thigh to tease him. He was already heard, just from having Brendon on his lap. 

"I call dibs," Gabe said when they pulled up to the house, scrambling out of the cab and dragging Brendon behind him, stumbling up to the house. 

"How is that fair?" Alex asked, jogging up behind them

"You can have sloppy seconds?" Brendon asked. "Not sure how this works. Do we get to wear togas?"

"My sheets are too expensive for that,” Vicky said as she came up the steps, searching in her purse for her keys. “Come on, in the house. The neighbors already think we're filming porn." 

"Oh my God - can we?" Gabe gasped.

"I'm out," Brendon and Alex said at the same time.

"In the house," Vicky said, laughing, but she didn’t say no. . 

"Why do you want to wear a toga?" Alex asked Brendon. “It’s not like we’re having a toga party.”

"Orgies are from Greece or something, right?" Brendon said as Vicky finally got the door unlocked, but then Gabe grabbed him by the collar, pulling him inside the house and pushing him into the wall, kissing the rest of his thoughts away.

"God, I wish I were more sober for this. It's been a while," Alex said.

"I need to start dating more straight boys, I wonder if Ryland's busy tonight," Vicky announced, snickering. 

"Ryland and Nate went home with a waitress and a busboy each, I think they're busy," Gabe said when Brendon had to pull away to breathe, but he kept Brendon pinned against the wall. 

"I couldn't have asked for a merrier band of horny freaks to find me," Brendon said, wrapping his arms around Gabe’s waist and leaning his head against Gabe’s chest. 

"Amen," Gabe said, then laughed out loud.. "Let's get you to bed and fucked out so we can all pass out."

"My room -- the bed's bigger, and I just put on fresh sheets," Vicky said.

"Oooh," Alex said, spinning her around for a kiss. 

"Mark my words, Brenny, one of these days they're going to realize they're meant for each other, but until then, at least we can have some fun," Gabe murmured in his ear. 

"Mmm," he agreed, muffling his giggle by sucking a hickey into Gabe's collarbone.

"Jesus, let's do this already," Gabe growled, pushing him towards the bedroom so enthusiastically that Brendon momentarily lost his footing.

*** ***

"How does this even work?" Brendon asked, splayed across the bed watching Alex and Gabe strip Vicky out of her clothes across the room as they struggled to disrobe themselves at the same time. His own club clothes were in a pile by the closet doors already.

"I just want Gabe to eat me out -- he's the best," Vicky said. “You guys can fight amongst yourself for everything else.” 

"You want a blow job, Alex?" Brendon questioned. He'd been hard since the bar and he wasn't sure how he’d managed to keep from coming before they had even really started. 

"The answer to that question is always yes," Alex said, abandoning Vicky to move over to the bed. He sat down primly at the edge and raised and eyebrow until Brendon sighed and moved from his comfortable position to fold himself gracefully at Alex’s feet. 

Vicky – now naked -- walked over to take his place on the bed, lying down on her back and tucking her feet up against her ass in anticipation. Gabe finished stripping himself and actually threw himself onto the bed between her spread legs, approaching her with the same enthusiasm he did everything.

Brendon kind of wanted to watch, but Alex was sitting on the edge of the bed expectantly and he had to focus on his own task. 

"I remember how you like it," Brendon said, smiling up at Alex in time to see him roll his eyes at the enthusiastic noises already coming from behind him on the bed. Brendon licked Alex’s cock from base to head, making sure to get the shaft slick and wet and tickling Alex’s balls with the hand that wasn't stroking his own cock. 

He started slow, taking the head into his mouth and circling the tip with his tongue before carefully breathing through his nose and engulfing Alex’s entire length with a single motion.

Alex groaned and Brendon laughed around his cock, making him groan again. 

Vicky was panting out little chuckles and running her fingers through Gabe's hair as he worked hard, head bobbing as he licked and sucked her clit. 

He pulled off to take a breath and Alex slid his hands to the back of Brendon’s neck, tugging him up off his knees and pulling him onto the bed.

"My turn, Brenny, got to make this last," he said, urging Brendon to settle into a narrow strip of mattress next to Vicky. 

"Shit, Gabe, get up here if you want me to put your dick in my mouth,” Vicky said, almost in ear. “Otherwise, you’re going to make me come again and pass the fuck out.". 

Brendon bit his tongue when Alex started stroking Brendon’s desperate dick, teasing up and down his shaft with tiny licks alternating with soft kisses before he took Brendon slowly -- agonizingly slowly -- into his mouth. 

"God, I missed this," Gabe said, rolling over with enough force to bounce the bed. Brendon gasped as the motion pushed him further into Alex's mouth. 

Gabe propped himself up on one arm and smiled down at Brendon with glistening lips. Vicky let out a harsh laugh as she scrambled to switch places with Gabe and lowered her head to his cock. Gabe's eyes drifted closed as he leaned down to muffle his moan against Brendon's mouth. 

"Shit, shit, shit, Alex, pull off," Brendon said suddenly. "Too close, off!"

Alex released Brendon, sliding off him with a pop, laughing. He turned his head towards to Vicky, kissing the side of her mouth until she also released Gabe and turn her face towards Alex again so he could kiss her properly. 

"We are so -- all -- brushing -- our teeth -- after this," Brendon panted out, still trying to get himself under control. 

"Can I fuck you?" Gabe asked suddenly, rolling over so he was on top of Brendon, their cocks sliding together, slick with saliva, trapped between their stomachs.

"Yeah, me too, Alex,” Vicky said. He snorted and shifted over Brendon and Gabe to squeeze in beside her. 

“I don’t think we have the equipment for that,” Alex said, and Brendon thought he sounded genuinely disappointed. “It’s still back at my place. I, however, could totally fuck you.” 

“Well, why don't you get on that then?" Vicky said. “Instead of talking about it all night.” 

Alex rolled his eyes, but he shifted obediently to one side to dig through one of Vicky’s nightstand drawers. Brendon turned his head to follow the line of Alex’s naked back as he stretched out and found himself face to face with Vicky, who had stretched out beside him. 

"Hi," he said softly. She grinned back. 

"Hi yourself," she said. 

"Getting you all ready over here," Gabe said, accepting a small square of foil from Alex with one hand even as Brendon felt Gabe’s cool fingers, slick with lube already, opening him up.

"It's not like we didn't fuck, like, four hours ago," Brendon giggled as he heard the tear of the condom. “I know what you’re doing.” Still, he couldn’t help but groan as Gabe’s fingers found that magic stop, only a step behind the noise that Vicky hissed out when Alex moved on top of her and kissed her, grinding his body into hers. 

"So fucking hot," Gabe grunted, as his dick filled Brendon with one deep thrust, taking his breath. 

He reached his arms out and moved them into a better position behind Gabe’s neck to pull him in for kissing as he wrapped his legs around Gabe’s back. He felt Gabe shift his hands to hold Brendon’s legs balanced in the air as he thrust deeper. 

Gabe moved his hand down to Brendon’s dick, circling it in a loose fist, and Brendon bucked into it, each snap of his hips letting Gabe’s cock hit that spot deep inside him, the one he’d hadn’t even known he’d had a year ago.

"Kiss me , Alex, kiss me before I'm out," Vicky gasped. “So close.”

"I'm pretty close, too,” Gabe whispered, then nipped Brendon’s ear as he pushed forward to meet Brendon’s hips. “You ready?" 

"Been ready, like, forever..." Brendon replied, sucking Gabe’s tongue into his mouth.

He had never come at the same time with Gerard, not like with Gabe. 

"Fuck," Alex said from somewhere beside Gabe, his voice rough. 

"I think we just established that," Vicky said, but her voice was high and breathless. She came with a breathy cry a moment later, and Brendon felt Gabe tense up, triggering both their orgasms at the same time. 

When he was finished, Gabe slumped down, collapsing on top of Brendon. Beside them, Alex had rolled over into the wedge of space between Brendon and Vicky and flung himself onto the bed.

"Wash up, then break," Gabe said after a minute, then looked down sternly . "And you need to put the stuff on your tattoo and our new piercings and get your ass to bed."

"Tired," Brendon said, slumping against him. “I’m good right here.” 

"You were the one all about the toothbrushing earlier," Alex said. “Get up. You can come back to cuddle. Or not,” he added, as Gabe tried to roll off Brendon and fell completely out of bed. 

"Ew, yeah," Brendon said. “Okay, I’m getting up. Maybe we’ll go sleep in my bed.” He leaned over and brushed a kiss on Vicky’s shoulder, reaching over her to touch Alex’s hair

"Okay, but breakfast, bright and early, then. I want pancakes," Vicky said, yawning, already spooning with Alex. Brendon disentangled himself from the sheets and stood up from the bed, reaching down to give Gabe a hand up. 

He could definitely get behind more birthdays like this.

*** *** ***

 _"Brendon...it's your Mother. Mom. I...hope you're doing well. Happy birthday, I know it was a week ago. I...made you a cake, just in case...but I know...I'm sorry. I don't even know what to say...but I miss you. I love you and I miss you. And I hope...if you call, I'll answer the phone. I just wanted you to know that. I won't...I just wanted you to know that I love you."_

*** ***

"Are you really going to do this?" Vicky asked, leveling a long gaze at Brendon. She was sitting on Ryland's lap on one of the couches in the coffee shop while Nate painted her toenails with her feet in his own lap. 

"Hell yes, why not?" Brendon asked, flipping through the waivers for the skydiving class.

"Because it's crazy," Alex pointed out from his own chair. 

"Which is exactly why it's going to be awesome," Gabe said.

"Completely awesome. After I throw up," Brendon admited, flipping another page. 

"Try and hit a bird - now that would be awesome," Nate said. 

"That's totally gross. Poor birdie," Brendon gasped. 

"And I'm going to have chicken for dinner, too, delicious chicken," Nate teased.

"Hey, we're supposed to be supporting Brenny's decision to become a herbivore," Ryland scolded.

" _Chicken_ ," Nate whispered.

"I'm going to puke on you before we go to training," Brendon said. He seriously could, even if he missed chicken nuggets. But not as much as he would miss cute fluffy chickens, he told himself. 

He heard the bell jingle and saw Ryland and Nate's faces fall into scowls. 

"We're closed, dude," Alex said, making Brendon turn to acknowledge whoever it was. 

"Not here to buy anything, _dude_. Brendon, can I talk to you?" Bob asked, standing undeterred by the door. 

Brendon saw Gabe and Alex bristle but he had gotten by without dealing with Gerard for too long. 

"You want my Tazer?" Vicky asked, continuing to glare at Bob. 

"I got it. It's cool," he said. "I'm good. I'll be back," Brendon said, putting down his paperwork and going to the door.

"Can I have a cigarette for my time?" he said to Bob by way of greeting. 

"Sure," Bob said, holding the door for him to walk outside. "Your friends are kind of snarly."

"Yeah, sometimes," Brendon said with a shrug. He held out his hand expectantly, and Bob dug into his shirt pocket of his cigarettes and a lighter. He tugged two out and put them both in his own mouth to light them before handing one over to Brendon and blowing out a long stream of smoke. 

"Look, I'm not here for Gerard. I'm here because I want to apologize and you didn't let me before -- and normally it wouldn't bother me when I probably won't run into you that often - but you didn't deserve how I treated you. You did a helluva lot for Gee. You brought him back to life. It's like -- you didn't know him before he started drinking, you only saw him at his worst - but you saw through it," Bob said. He fiddled with his lighter as if he were uncomfortable with that revelation. "And then he fucked you over. I know how much you loved him, anybody that saw how wrung out you were when he was detoxing could see that. But Gerard doesn't...I can't make excuses for him."

Brendon tried to process his rushed words, but Bob just continued on without even a breath.

"I was a douchebag and I'm sorry. I just had to tell you that. You gave me a conscience and that kind of sucks," Bob said. 

"Huh,” Brendon said, taking a drag on his own cigarette in response.

"You helped Gerard even though your friends didn't like him and his friends didn't like you, because you loved him. And you're a nice guy. And there aren't a lot of those around. Did you get a tat?" Bob asked suddenly. 

Brendon blinked. He’d never heard Bob say so much at one time before. 

"Yeah. Birthday present to myself," Brendon said, showing it off proudly and grabbing on to the short distraction.

Bob nodded, and admired his ink. 

"Gerard didn't know, did he?"

"Honestly? Gerard probably doesn't know much about me at all. It wasn't really about me. I, get that now. And...I want to think that he actually did love me at some point. But it really sucks that it was probably just because of the sex, and the liquor. It wasn't...we had different ideas of what we were to each other," Brendon said. 

He’d spent a long time thinking about what had happened with Gerard, talking with Gabe and with his other friends, but he was finally starting to see the whole picture. 

"Yeah, but it wasn't fair. Life's not fair, but I guess you know that already," Bob said. He blew out another stream of smoke, head tipped back towards the sky. 

"He really hurt me. But I walked right into that trap," Brendon said.

Bob shrugged. 

"Traps wouldn't be traps if you could see them,” he said, and dropped his cigarette to the ground, rubbing it out with the toe of his boot. “So, truce? At least between me and you?"

Brendon shook his hand. 

"Yeah, truce. And -- how's he doing? Can I ask that?"

"He's...sad. He misses you. I don't know if any of us realized how much you did for him. You took good care of him. I'm glad you have people taking care of you now. But who's the tall guy? Gerard said he was pretty...territorial. New boyfriend?" Bob asked. He reached for his shirt pocket as if to go for another cigarette, then aborted the motion.

"No. He's a friend. We're rebounding together," Brendon said, and held out his cigarette to Bob. "We're going skydiving."

Bob blinked. 

"You...skydiving?" he asked, and took the butt from Brendon with a sheepish grin. 

"Why not? I need to start facing my fears -- my stuff -- head on. Jumping out of a plane should help with that. I waited eighteen years to get the guts to leave the church. I don't want to miss anything else because I'm too scared to do it," Brendon said. "Tattoos, piercings, skydiving. It's going to be awesome. In theory."

"Theory, hunh? Let me know how that works out for you," Bob said. He took a drag of Brendon's cigarette and laughed.

Brendon smiled, but then looked away. 

"Do you think...did he care at all?" he asked abruptly.

"Yeah. He did. He does. A lot. But Frank..." Brendon heard Bob hesitate, and looked down to see that he was holding out the end of the cigarette to Brendon. He took it and sucked in a final drag as he waited. . "Frank fits.” 

Brendon stubbed out the cigarette on the brick wall behind them and dropped it to the ground. 

“I know. I -- kind of -- figured that out. But I thought he'd at least tell me. Honesty's one of my things. He knows that," Brendon sighed. "And it would really hurt to see him right now. But, I...miss him. And I hate myself for it."

Brendon looked up to see that Bob’s hand was hovering above his shoulder. After a minute, it came down in a clumsy pat. 

"This wasn't your fault,” Bob said. “None of it. And, if it helps, he won't even kiss Frank since that night. He said he's got to make it right with you first. But Frank still comes by every night to take him to his meetings. Mikey moved in with him, too. Life goes on," Bob said. 

"I don't know if he can make it right with me," Brendon admitted. He felt bad admitting that when a part of him was marveling at how long ago it all seemed. 

"That's what I told him," Bob said. He shrugged. 

The door to the coffee shop opened with a bang, bells rattling wildly. 

"Hey, everything okay?" Gabe asked, walking out and scowling at Bob.

"Yeah, good. We're good," Brendon said. "Bob's cool. This is Gabe."

Bob's eyes flashed with recognition. 

"Oh. Thought I knew you from somewhere. I saw your show out in Allston a few months back."

"No one explained that he was a rockstar before they introduced us," Brendon said. Bob shrugged as if to say ‘it happens.’ Brendon was sort of sorry he hadn’t made peace with Bob earlier. 

"You better not hurt the kid jumping out of planes and shit," Bob said. "I thought you went out with some hot chick."

"She's a bitch," Gabe muttered.

"Oh. Double rebound. Whatever, just don't fuck it up, tricky shit," Bob said. "And if you're going all adrenaline junkie, a few of us are going dirtbiking up in the hills on Tuesday, fuck some shit up. We've got one of the busted ones that we're going to burn in the bonfire. Good times."

"Is his ex going to be there?" Gabe asked.

"Unless Gee's changed a lot, he won't get on a dirtbike," Brendon snorted, and Bob joined him a second later.

"Yeah, not really Gerard's kind of thing. Ray will probably be there, though, and maybe Frank," Bob said. 

"Frank? Uh, yeah, we'll take a pass," Gabe said. 

"We'll think about it,” Brendon said at the same time. Gabe glared, but he shrugged. “Frank's all right, really. And I'd rather talk to him than Gerard. Is that weird?" Brendon asked.

"You're weird," Gabe said, but he slid an arm around Brendon possessively. 

"Give me a call if you think you want in,” Bob said. “Otherwise, I'll see you around. I just wanted – I thought I should talk to you in person. Good luck with the whole jumping out of planes thing.” 

"Thanks,” Brendon said, and to his surprise, Bob pulled him out of Gabe’s hold for a quick one-armed hug. 

“See you around,” Bob repeated, and walked off down the street. Brendon watched until he turned the corner and then felt Gabe snake his arm around Brendon’s waist again. 

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. Better, even. It was nice of him to come by. He was a jackass, but he apologized, and that's...something, you now? It was nice," Brendon said. 

It didn't change the hurt from Gerard, but it gave him a little boost to know that Bob had taken the time to tell him that he'd mattered. That he'd helped.

"You've earned some nice. Come on, let's go back in and finish finding out how we're going to fly," Gabe said. 

Brendon linked their arms and followed him back into the shop.

*** ***

He’d started to get nervous when they first played the videos for them, and by the time they’d made it to the safety classes, no amount of reassurance that the flight school had only “guaranteed, experienced instructors” could keep him from being scared out of his mind. But all that it was nothing compared to the roar of the airplane and the 'whoosh' of the air when the instructor opened the cargo-bay doors. . 

"I'll try not to scream!" Brendon yelled to his instructor when they reached the opening. He barely had time to look down before the man laughed and stepped out of the open door, pulling Brendon with him.

And then he fell. 

It wasn't flying because he was too heavy and the wind was cold on his face as they spun, falling too fast to think. 

His gut dropped and there was nothing to catch him and he was falling and it was fucking...high. 

He was _flying_.

He spread his arms like wings and watched the ground rushing toward him. 

He had to fall before he could fly, he thought as he followed the instructor’s pantomime and pulled his rip cord. The slam of the harness around his torso sucked what little breath he'd caught from his lungs, but it was still like soaring. 

His instructor was laughing behind him, but Brendon closed his eyes and let himself fly.

He was free. He could do anything - he could live and fly and he wasn't doing anything wrong. 

It was over too soon. They drifted to the ground and he tried to skid to a stop but they ended up tumbling end over end into the grass.

He unclasped the harness and gave his instructor an impulsive hug before Vicky and Ryland rushed over.

"Are you alive?" Ryland asked.

"That was fucking awesome!" Brendon shouted, laughing. He hugged Vicky and swung her around while she held her camera over her head. "Amazing!"

They all turned to watch where Gabe was touching down a few hundred yards away. 

They walked over, Brendon laughing the whole time. He still felt like he was flying.

Gabe was struggling with the harness and the instructor finally had to help him. Gabe nearly fell over when he was free. 

"Dude, are you all right?" Ryland asked.

"That was the scariest fucking thing. – This was the worst idea ever," Gabe said hoarsely, with wide eyes.

Brendon stumbled over and embraced him tightly. 

"No, dude, it was awesome! It was fucking _awesome_!"

"I think I'm dead," Gabe said, squeezing the air out of Brendon as his arms latched around Brendon’s waist automatically.

"He screamed the whole way down," the instructor added helpfully from behind them, where he was still gathering up Gabe’s equipment.

"God, I'm so glad I'm recording this," Vicky said seriously.

"Chill out, Gabe. Come on, let's give the nice men their stuff back and go home," Brendon said, pushing his clingy friend off and helping him out of the coveralls.

He was surprised that Gabe's utter shock didn't shake off his own awe at what he'd done, and he was still floating on adrenaline in the car ride back to the coffee shop, even as Gabe was babbling about how freaked out he was. Brendon tried not to laugh. 

"Everything that scared you made me feel awesome," Brendon said finally. "Thank you.I'm sorry it sucked for you, but I'm so glad you made me do it."

Gabe relaxed slightly and leaned over to kiss him. 

"That makes me feel a little better, but _motherfuck_ \- that was unbelievably traumatic."

Brendon stifled his giggle with another kiss and wondered if it was too soon to add another measure to his tattoo after his amazing day. He felt like he'd changed. He'd faced more fears than he knew he had in the past year, but now he needed the courage to face the thing he feared the most.

*** ***

"Gabe? Will you do something for me?" Brendon asked, tracing a finger around Gabe's nipple and flicking the small ring absently. A nicely-stuffed joint and a few tequila shots before dinner had finally gotten the spark of fear out of Gabe's eyes. Not to mention a long round of sex and recovery. He was sated enough to ask now.

"Anything," Gabe murmured sleepily. 

"I want to call my mom. And I don't want to talk about it. But...would you stay? And not make me talk about it after?" Brendon asked. 

"Yeah," Gabe said immediately. Brendon felt him tense, though, even if he didn't visibly react. "Whatever you need."

He had never talked about his calls to his brother and sister with his friends. He needed to keep the two separate as much as he could so that he could keep it separate in his own head. 

The things that made him happy now were the things that had made his family hate him.

He didn't think he could call his mom without someone to tether him. And Gabe wouldn't be as smothering as any of his other friends. 

He wasn't sure why he felt so close to Gabe, but he trusted him. He didn't love him -- not in the way he'd loved Gerard, or how he thought he was supposed to love a boyfriend – but he was pretty sure that Gabe could never hurt him like Gerard, either. 

They weren't boyfriends really, though, and he was surprised to discover that he was really okay with that. He liked being friends with Gabe even more. 

"I thought she didn't answer. I mean, Vicky told me that your parents..." Gabe started softly.

"She left a message. After all this time, she actually called. And I've been freaking out about it a little. But I think...I need to call her back. And I won't cry in front of you. I hope," Brendon said. 

"You can, if you want. Come here," Gabe said, tugging him closer so he could give him a gentle kiss. 

Brendon turned his face into Gabe’s neck and closed his eyes.   
"I don't want to do it right now. I mean...naked in bed with you isn't the optimal place for me to call her and not be wracked with Mormon guilt."

"How about we get dressed and go outside?" Gabe asked, carding his hand through Brendon’s hair, his fingers scratching Brendon’s scalp gently.

"It's cold."

"We'll bundle up," Gabe said.

"Okay. Yeah. It'll be better," Brendon agreed. The sky and the chill would keep him focused. 

He was comfy in Gabe's oversized hoodie when they finally went outside, and clutched his phone in his fist with the sleeves pulled over his hands. Gabe's arms were warm around him and he led Brendon to the edge of Vicky’s small yard to sit under a tree. 

Gabe sat down first and held open his arms. 

"Cuddle," he ordered.

Brendon smiled and settled between Gabe’s legs, leaning back against him. 

"Thanks," he said quietly. 

Gabe hummed a dismissal under his breath, lacing his fingers over Brendon's stomach.

Brendon sucked in a deep breath and slipped his hand out of the cocoon of his sleeve to flip open the phone, dialing the number before he let himself think about what he was going to say. 

His mom didn't answer.

But his dad did. He didn't have a plan for that.

_"Hello?"_

"Oh. Can I speak to...Grace?" Brendon managed finally. Gabe was still humming almost inaudibly. If Brendon hadn’t felt the vibrations against his back he wouldn’t have known it, but it was still steadying for him. 

_"She's not home right now. Can I take a message?"_

"No, thank you," Brendon said, his voice breaking a little.

_"Brendon? Are you...how are you?"_

"I...wow. Okay. I'm good. How are you?" Brendon asked. 

Gabe laced his fingers with Brendon's free hand and squeezed it for a moment. 

_"I...I'm fine. Thank you for asking. I pray for you every day."_

Brendon snorted. 

"Glad to give you something to talk to your God about."

_"Don't do this."_

"Will you tell Mom I called?"

 _"Don't hang up."_

Brendon waited and after a long moment, his father spoke again. 

_"The church misses you."_

Brendon closed his eyes. 

"Really? I don't miss the church. I miss my family."

He wanted to hang up but breathing seemed to be the only thing he could do. 

_"Are you taking care of yourself?"_

"Yes, thank you for asking," Brendon replied. Politeness was part of being a Urie. 

_"Your sister said you went to New York."_

Brendon hadn't considered that his family was talking about him with each other. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. 

"Yeah, we did the whole tourist thing. It was fun."

_"I...good. I bet it was fun."_

"Yeah. It was."

_"Brendon. Son."_

He flinched at that but Gabe was still humming and letting Brendon squeeze his hand. 

_"I made mistakes. I shouldn't have let the Bishop...deal with you. You didn't deserve that. You were -- you are -- a good boy. A good son. I will never stop asking God to forgive you for your sins, but .this...it's breaking your mother's heart."_

"What about my heart?" Brendon whispered. "You don't think this hurts me? She's my mom. You're my dad. This wasn't easy for me. This isn't what I wanted."

_"I...I'll tell your mother you called. I...you should call again. She's going to be disappointed she missed you."_

"Bye, Dad," Brendon said, closing the phone. 

Gabe kissed his collarbone. 

"You want to go back to bed?" he asked after a long minute.

"I think...can we just sit here?" Brendon asked.

"Anything," Gabe replied.

Brendon snuggled into Gabe's warmth and took a few steadying breaths. 

"I was thinking,” Gabe said suddenly, “That after today's horrifying events I should take a real break before my vacation's up. Go somewhere and re-evaluate my life. You've inspired me," Gabe said. 

"Inspired you?" Brendon asked. He was grateful for the distraction. 

"Yeah. I think maybe I need to be separate from everything I know to find out who I am," Gabe said. "I think I need to go on a spirit quest."

"A what?" Brendon asked with a giggle. .

"A spirit quest. You know, go out into the jungle and have a vision," Gabe said. "You should come with me."

"There's no jungle in the United States," Brendon said. “And I don’t have a passport. I’ve never needed one.” 

"Fine,” Gabe said, waving a hand in the air. “Semantics. Desert? How about the desert, will that do? I have a house in Vegas, and I can get one of my buddies to help us find somewhere we won't get eaten by coyotes," Gabe said.

"You know I'm from Vegas," Brendon asked. It wasn’t really a question. .

"You don't have to go anywhere you don't want to. We're going to the desert, not home for the holidays," Gabe said. 

"How can you be separate from everything if I'm with you?" Brendon asked.

"You don't give me any bad memories. Only good ones. And you're my inspiration, so you have to be there. What do you say after your kickass party in a couple of weeks, we see if we can find what we're looking for?"

Brendon hummed his agreement into Gabe’s chest. He believed he could do anything when he was with Gabe. 

"Hey. It's okay. No matter what they say, you know that we love you. You're not alone and you're a good person," Gabe said, kissing the crown of Brendon’s head. 

"I flew today," Brendon said, and even though it wasn’t an answer, really, Gabe seemed satisfied to let him sit in silence after it.

No matter what, he’d flown. It would have to be enough.

*** *** ***

 _"Brendon, it's Mason. I was hoping to talk to you. Dad called me last night and he was crying. What did you say to him? He kept asking if he was a bad father and if I thought he did the right thing...and I didn't know what to say. I need to know what you said to make Dad so upset that he was hiding from Mom at the Baskin Robbins - you know he's lactose intolerant. Call me, Brendon and let me know you're okay."_

*** ***


	4. four

*** ***

**-part four-**

*** 

"Hey, Vicky? I was thinking of maybe inviting Gerard to the party," Brendon said, watching to make sure Gabe and Alex were out of earshot in the other room. He was sitting on the kitchen counter, watching Vicky as she assembled an impressive-looking sandwich. 

"Oh, wow..Do you want to see him dead before you go off into the wilderness with Saporta?" Vicky asked, but her eyes were serious and sharp. 

"No, I guess -- I sort of want to make my peace. And if he shows up sober and maybe...happy -- with Frank, or whoever -- it'll make me feel a little better, I think," Brendon said. "And he was a big part of my year of enlightenment."

"Yeah, a big bad part," Vicky grumbled as she stacked lettuce and tomato onto the top of her creation. "But it's your party. Whatever makes you happy."

"He made me happy once. And I learned a lot from him. It counts for something, you know? And I'm a grown up, so I should be able to deal with it," Brendon said. "I don't know when I'll be back from Gabe's spirit walk, you know?"

"You better not be gone too long. I don't want to have to come out there and get sand in my ass trying to find you," Vicky warned, gesturing with the long knife she was using to cut the sandwich in half

"I don't want to get lost out there either, but I trust that Gabe's going to have somewhere cushy to sleep," Brendon smiled. 

"True, but I'm not throwing you a going-away party," Vicky said. “This is strictly a Happy-Year-of-Enlightenment Party.” 

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," Brendon said, jumping down to give her a hug.

"Good," she said into his neck. 

"This is my home. Even if I'm not here, this is always going to be home," Brendon said.

"My Brenny's all grown up," Vicky said. "I'm so proud of you."

"That means everything to me," Brendon whispered.

"Go finish packing so we can finish getting the rest of your stuff for camping," Vicky said, swatting him away. “Here, take half of this with you for sustenance. I think I made too much.” 

"God, we've been shopping every day this week - there's only so much anti-bacterial hand soap I can put in my bag," Brendon said.

"Sunblock," she said.

"I'm not five," Brendon said with a laugh. "I think you're more stressed out about this than I am."

"I just want to make sure you have everything you need. And I have to get the rest of your presents," she said.

He opened his mouth to protest but Gabe walked in at that moment and pulled him out of Vicky’s arms for a kiss. 

"The plans have been finalized, the course is plotted and we'll be howling at the moon and getting our Zen on in a few days," Gabe said. 

"I still can't believe you guys are doing this because Gabe's afraid of heights now," Alex snorted, coming into the kitchen on Gabe’s heels. He put his arms across Vicky's shoulders and supported her when she relaxed back against him.

Brendon shared a small smile with Gabe. He didn't know how Vicky and Alex were going to react when they realized they were in love with each other.

It would be awesome to see, though. He hoped they’d be back in enough time to witness it. 

"What are you guys in here talking about?" Gabe asked him.

"I'm asking Gerard and his friends to the party,” Brendon admitted. “I can be a mature grown up and make peace with my exes. What if I need album art for a record one day and don't want to pay an artist?”.

"He's an asshole, you shouldn't fuck around with him," Alex said, and frowned.

"He didn't steal from me, or hurt me, or do anything else that I can't get over. He didn't even fuck Frank. And he really was out of his head when I met him, I can see that now. He didn't need the same things when he was sober that he did when he was drinking, and I was a part of that. We didn't fit the same when he quit, and he fits with Frank. I don't want to be angry with him forever, you know?" Brendon said..

"I love your brain, even if it always makes me feel like a bitch," Vicky said, reaching over for him and planting a kiss on his forehead. 

"Fine, Brenny,” Alex agreed, tugging Vicky back into his arms, “But you can't make us be nice to him." .

"I think he's used to you guys pelting him with _Pez_ by now," Brendon said. 

"Ooh, more entertainment for the party," Gabe said with a grin, and tapped Brendon’s nose.

*** ***

Brendon jolted awake when the air horn went off in his ear. But Gabe fell right out of bed, so Brendon figured he’d handled it pretty well, all things considered. 

"Wake up! We have a day of celebrating to start!" Alex shouted, laughing, while Vicky helped Gabe off the floor. 

"Shit, what time is it?" Brendon groaned, snatching the horn from Alex so that he could destroy it later. 

"Early, but we've got lots of plans for today, starting with pancakes. Well, you guys should get dressed first probably, but then - pancakes. And then we'll be off for errands while these fools set the house up for tonight," Vicky said. 

"Getting up early is not a good celebration incentive," Brendon said, but he knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. "Pancakes, however, are. Well played."

"Let's take a shower and get on those pancakes," Gabe said, pulling him out of bed with one hand.

It should have been weird to be naked in front of all his friends – hell, a year ago it would have been weird to be naked in bed, _period_ \-- but he'd gotten comfortable in his own skin, and it wasn't like he hadn't been naked with everyone in the room before. 

"Make it a quickie, guys. We're hungry, and I don't know how long we can keep Nate from using all the maple syrup. Plus, Ryland's already complaining about the coffeemaker," Vicky called after them as Gabe pushed Brendon into the bathroom.

Brendon held out Gabe's toothbrush to him, and they brushed and spit and rinsed like an old married couple. He wondered, vaguely, why he could do this with Gabe when he wasn't in love with him when he’d never managed such domesticity with Gerard, whom he’d loved with his whole heart.. 

He knew his brain was a little skewed, but with then Gabe kissed him with minty-fresh breath and tugged into the shower, palming his morning wood enthusiastically, revived and Brendon forgot to care if what they shared was love or not. It made him happy. 

A year ago, two years, more – his whole adolescence -- he’d been miserable. He’d thought that sacrificing his happiness for his parents' approval was the only thing he could do, and he hadn't even really known what made him happy, except for maybe a well-tuned piano and forbidden music uploaded to his iPod. 

He hadn’t known what love was, and his still didn’t now, but his ideas about sex had been shifted. Once, he’d never thought he could have sex at all – not and be a part of the church, a part of his family. He’d had fleeting thoughts of a loveless marriage and a dutiful sex life with a woman who would probably hate him and not even know why. But now, he could have sex without being in love and enjoy it. 

Some things hadn’t changed, though. He was still pretty sure that making love was better than just having sex. Sex with Gabe was fun, but it didn't have the intimacy that came when he was with Gerard. And as much as he'd like learning about sex from Vicky and Alex, sex with Gerard had meant so much more. 

"You're thinking too hard, obviously,” Gabe said, turning him so that they were face to face under the heavy spray of the shower. Brendon was pretty sure that – aside from Vicky and the boys – he was going to miss this shower most of all while on their spirit quest. “You want me to blow you?” 

"I thought we were swearing off sex until the desert," Brendon reminded him. 

"True, but..." Gabe started.

"No, you said since we're both sexual creatures that we should ‘give our full energy to our first night amongst nature,’" Brendon said sternly, quoting Gabe's words from an earlier conversation, then ruined it all by cracking up.

"I talk too much," Gabe muttered. 

Vicky banged on the door, yelling for them to hurry up, and he turned they turned their attention to the actual showering part of the shower. He had to swat Gabe's hands away when he tried to wash a little more than Brendon’s back, but they pretty much made quick work of it. Brendon wanted to start on the celebration.

"Pancakes, pancakes, pancakes," he chanted while he dried off and pulled on his favorite jeans -- tight, with holes in the knees so he could actually sit down in them -- and the first t-shirt Vicky had bought for him, the one with the cute green aliens from Toy Story on the front. It felt like a uniform of a different sort, but it suited him far better than his old Mormon suit and tie ever had. 

"Sexy," Gabe smirked, pulling him in for a hard kiss. "I don't know if I can last two days if you're going to look like that the whole time."

"You're such a perv,” Brendon said, giving Gabe a quick, closed-mouth kiss and climbing onto his back. “Now give me a piggyback ride to the pancakes." 

"You're just with me because I'm tall," Gabe complained..

"Well, I do enjoy riding you," Brendon said, making Gabe bark out a laugh. He settled Brendon more firmly on his back and headed downstairs. 

Alex was flipping pancakes in front of the stove while Nate sat at the counter with his fork and knife, waiting impatiently.

"God, I'm starving, it's about time," Nate said. "Ryland went out for better coffee, but he said we could start without him."

Alex smiled at Brendon, putting a plate of pancakes in front of him and kissing his forehead while Nate protested, loudly.

"Oh, shut up, Nate, you get to eat first on your birthdays," Vicky said, swatting him on the head before sitting down beside Brendon and nudging Gabe to the side. 

"You'll always be my favorite," Brendon said, pulling her over for a hug. 

"I’d better be," Vicky said.

*** ***

Brendon stared at the long table of catered food. They’d walked through the door a minute before to find Ryland and Alex arguing with the DJ already. Behind him, Vicky poked Gabe in the chest, continuing the argument that had started in the car. She was still mad about their last-minute trip to the liquor store instead of the lingerie store. Brendon was just grateful to get out of dressing in drag tonight, and he owed Gabe a big favor for that.

"Your ex is here," Nate said, already eating the tiny, speared shrimp and nodding to the corner of the living room by the stairs where Gerard was standing with Bob and Mikey. 

"Oh. Well, I asked for it, right?" Brendon said. 

"Yep. But we'll be nice. Well, nicer," Nate shrugged. "Get a plate first so you'll have something to nibble on when you don't know what to say."

"Good idea," Brendon agreed, loading his plate with skewers of grilled vegetables and fruit before grabbing a can of soda and going to greet his guests.

He could feel Gerard's gaze on him before he reached the stairs but managed to smile and give Mikey a one-armed hug. 

"Hey, dude," Brendon said.

"Hey yourself, what's up? Congrats on the -- one year here or something?" Mikey said, sounding puzzled. 

"Yeah, one year ago today, Vicky T whisked me away from a Mormon heaven in her handbasket of sin," Brendon said. 

"Thanks for the invite,” Bob said. “You still flying high on your skydiving kick?"

"Yeah, I still say that it was the best thing ever," Brendon said, then finally turning his attention to Gerard. 

"Hey," Brendon said softly. 

"Hey. How...are you?" Gerard asked. Before Brendon could answer, Mikey pounded on his back.

"Is that – _holy shit_ , is that Gabe Saporta?" Mikey asked, sounding like a starstruck kid.

"Yeah, and he promised to be nice, so you can talk to him," Brendon said. 

"Come on, Mikey, I'll protect you," Bob snorted, and nudged him away from their corner. 

Brendon smiled nervously at Gerard. 

"You look good," Gerard said finally. 

"Thanks. You do, too. I...I want to say that I'm sorry for leaving over a kiss, but I think...somehow I knew it was more than that? It was, right?" Brendon asked.

"Yeah, it was. I mean, I think it is," Gerard whispered. 

"Then it would have happened anyway. And -- it's okay. It really hurt me, but I'm getting over it. I'm learning, and this past year... it wouldn't have taught me as much if I hadn't fallen in love with you," Brendon said.

"I still love you. You mean so much to me. I wouldn't have gotten this far if it weren't for you. You probably saved my life, you know? And I hurt you," Gerard said. 

Brendon took a deep breath and fiddled with the tab of his soda can. 

"Yeah, but it made me stronger, so it was worth it. I'm glad you came. Did you bring Frank?"

"He's in the other room with Ray. We haven't..." Gerard started.

"You should. Move on, I mean. We had some good times in there among the bad, but I think if I’d been a little bit more experienced, I would’ve realized that it was never going to work. But we're...cool. And Frank's cool, and it's my party, so I say there's no drama today," Brendon said. 

He looked Gerard in the eye to show he meant it. It was like pulling off a band aid - it might bleed a little, at first, but underneath it had already started to heal. .

"Can we hang out again? Like, as friends?" Gerard asked. 

"Maybe when I get back,” Brendon said. “Gabe and I are going on a spirit quest, find ourselves or whatever.".

"A spirit quest? What kind of spirit quest?" Gerard asked. 

"We're going to camp out under the stars in the desert and get back to nature or something. I'm just going because it sounds like fun," Brendon admitted, then bit his lip before we spoke again. "We have fun – me and Gabe. He’s fun."

"Good -- I mean -- I'm glad. Is he good to you?" Gerard asked, his gaze drifting over Brendon’s head for long enough that Brendon turned to look. . 

Gabe was wrestling Ryland while Alex and Vicky took over at the DJ table. Nate chatted with Mikey and Bob from in front of a tray of meat. . 

"Yeah, neither one of us take it too seriously. We just like hanging out and having sex," Brendon said with a shrug. “Like I said, we have fun.” 

"You deserve more than that," Gerard said after a long beat. “More than just fun.” 

"Maybe. Until I find it, this is enough. Go get Frank and Ray, will you, so we can start eating for real before all the crazy people get here. There's alcohol here, and some pot, but there's a drug free zone inside if it gets too crazy," Brendon said. 

"Are you sure?" Gerard asked. 

"I was never really mad at Frank,” Brendon said. “He wasn’t the one who had a boyfriend." 

Gerard huffed a little at that – not quite a laugh -- and Brendon poked him, feeling lighter. 

"Go, before he thinks I'm beating you up or something, I want to show him my ink anyway," he said, poking Gerard again until he smiled slightly. 

"You're a really special guy, Brendon. And I'm really glad Vicky opened her handbasket for you," Gerard said, touching his shoulder hesitantly before turning to head farther into the house. 

Brendon looked around again at the various knots of his friends, then hurried over to get between Vicky and Alex. 

"Since it's my party, shouldn't I get to pick the music?" he asked, tugging a record out of Alex’s hand. 

"You are supposed to be out there enjoying the fruits of our labor," Vicky said with a laugh. She cut it off, though, and looked at him seriously for a moment, raising her eyebrow.

"I'm good, Vicky,” Brendon promised, “but put on something to pacify the crowd while I go light some shots on fire."

Her eyes searched his face for a moment longer, but she must have liked whatever it was she saw, because she laughed again, nodding.

"All righty then," she said. “Way to get the party started!”

*** ***

Brendon blinked up at the flashing lights, from the strobe light one of Nate's friends had brought over earlier, and smiled when he recognized Frank and Mikey in his field of vision. 

"So, what's the deal? You hook up with some rock star and now you're going on some debauched trip into the desert?" Mikey asked.

"Sort of. What have you guys been doing?" Brendon asked, pushing himself to sit up and only swaying a little. 

"Not much -- went to a few shows, lots of moshing. You would've hated it," Mikey said. 

"What about you, Frank?" Brendon asked, laughing. 

"I beat level ten of the new _Call of Duty_ ," Frank said. "Nothing like skydiving - what the hell was that about?"

"I'm trying to do things I've never done before. Gabe's a really bad influence, but it's been fun, you know?" Brendon glanced over at Gerard and Ryland talking amicably by a tree. 

"You look all right. Better. Rested," Mikey said.

Brendon shrugged, trying not to show how drunk he really was. His tolerance was better now, but he was still pretty much a lightweight. 

"I think I acted like a teenage girl over Gerard. And now I'm moving on to my sophomore year in college and just having a good time. I have a lot of living to catch up on." He turned to his gaze to Frank. "You're good for Gerard. You should make a mental note of it."

"You are wasted," Mikey laughed.

"Maybe," Brendon replied. "But I'm glad you guys came. Closure seems to be really important to sanity. At least my sanity."

"That's true," Frank said, and smiled for the first time. "You be careful out in the wild, okay?"

"Don't start trying to scare me. Ryland's been reading me ghost stories since we started planning this trip," Brendon said. 

"It's a crazy idea, but I wouldn't expect anything less from you," Mikey said. "But I hope you'll still be talking to us when you get back so we can hear the story."

"I'll send you a postcard if we have to make a snack run," Brendon promised.

"Snack runs in the wilderness, that makes me feel much better about your trip," Mikey said with a laugh. 

"It's going to be enlightening and awesome, like skydiving," Brendon said. 

"It will be epic, that's for sure," Frank agreed. "But I want to do your tat next year, to commemorate."

"It's a deal, man, total deal," Brendon said.

*** *** ***

 _"You're coming to Vegas? When? Are you going to see..."_

_"No, Kara, chill. I'm not actually coming to Vegas. My friend's got permission for us to camp in the desert; I doubt we'll even see the inside of the city limits."_

_"So, you're not even going to come say hi? Lunch, or we could get – not coffee, but something? I want to see you, Brenny."_

_"You don't get to call me that."_

_"Oh."_

_"I'm sorry, Kara, that wasn't nice. But, I don't know if I'm ready to come home. Even for something-not-coffee yet. I mean, I've talked to Dad and I talk to you guys, but can you really say you're ready to deal with seeing me in person? Because I don't trust that Mom won't show up with the Bishop, you know?"_

_"They're not asking to see you right now, I am. You're talking to me and I want to see you."_

_"I don't think we'll be close enough for me to get away. That's not what this trip is about for me. It's my friend's trip and I'm just tagging along."_

_"I thought you wanted to try and fix things, Brendon."_

_"I do. But there was too much time without contact for me to trust everything you guys say. I just...taking it slow is working better for me right now."_

_"I love you. And you have my number in case you do pass through Vegas."_

_"I love you, too. I'll call you, I promise, even if I don't get to Vegas."_

*** ***

Brendon slept in the passenger seat for most of the first official day of their road trip, but woke up in time to take second shift of driving.

He loved driving Gabe's pimped-out SUV. The thump of the speakers managed to drown out Gabe's sleep-jumbled singalongs. 

They didn't talk much to each other, aside from idle conversation and requests for bathroom breaks, but they sang a lot together – shaky duets and lusty radio accompaniments. 

Brendon didn’t know when Gabe had come to know him so well, but he was grateful for the respite from thinking about things too much, especially since he knew that that’s pretty much all he’d be doing on this ‘spirit quest.’ Gabe somehow managed to talk about everything from the hottest cartoon woman to the history of the Jews in Spain, sometimes for hours at a stretch, keeping Brendon’s mind off anything else until they got to the Nevada border. 

His sister's request to see him had startled him. He hadn't let himself consider that his family would want to see him in person. He still wasn't sure how he felt about that, but the rush of homesick hit him like a brick wall when Gabe turned the AC off and rolled down all the windows. 

"Smell that desert air, Brendon. It's good, right?" 

"Yeah, Gabe, it's good," Brendon said. 

Gabe slowed the car down, shifting into the far-right lane. 

"What's wrong?" he asked, glancing over at Brendon.

Brendon didn’t answer. Instead, he unfastened his seat belt and gave Gabe a sloppy kiss before turning himself sideway. He rested his add on the edge of the window and thrust his face and torso out into the heat of the desert. .

"What in the – what the hell are you doing?" Gabe yelled. 

Brendon let the hot air rush across his face and body. He hooked his legs around the passenger seat more securely and let go of the window frame so he could spread his arms out, dragging against the rushing wind, and scream at the top of his lungs. He kept screaming until he was hoarse.

"Get the fuck in here," Gabe called, laughing, and reached across the console to tug Brendon back into the car by his feet. 

"God, that was great!” Brendon said, breathless, as he settled back into the car. “You do it now, you should do it.” 

“Then grab the wheel,” Gabe said, but he was already untangling himself from the seatbelt. They were on a long, flat stretch of road with no cars anywhere in sight. The moment Gabe moved, though, the car started to lose acceleration. “Maybe we should stop first.” 

Brendon didn’t want to stop. Brendon wanted to drive on and on forever, until they were so far out into the desert that no one could ever find them. 

“No, don’t stop. Don’t stop! Put the cruise control on, that’ll work" he said, taking the wheel so Gabe could get his lanky body out of the window to let out his own bellowing screech. 

"That's the way to start off our trip,” Gabe said, after a few minutes of rearranging his long limbs back in the driver’s seat. “I knew you'd get into this!"   
He laughed, throwing his head back against the seat.

"Yeah, it was awesome, but can we turn the AC back on?" Brendon asked. Gabe nodded and switched on the radio at the same time. He thought he'd pacified Gabe enough to relax a little into his own melancholy thoughts again, but Gabe looked over and tugged at Brendon’s hand until he offered it up. Gabe laced their fingers together on the drive shaft.

"Too close to home?" he asked after a few minutes. Brendon glared over at him. 

"You're not Vicky, you're not supposed to read my mind," he said.

"Yeah, but I didn't tell anyone about the call to your dad, so I thought you knew you could talk to me if you wanted to," Gabe said.

"I know. I don't really know what to say. My sister wanted me to come see her. But as much as I try and talk to them on the phone, I don't think I forgive them enough yet to face them."

"Isn't it better that she asked, though?" Gabe asked. “That she wants to see you?” 

"I guess," Brendon sighed. "I don’t know. I'll chill out more when we get to 'camp'."

Gabe seemed to take that as an invitation to drop the subject, but he never let go of Brendon’s hand. 

"I think my friend's meeting us there, but as soon as he leaves we're taking seven shots for luck and dropping three hits of acid, yeah?"

"You're the boss," Brendon smiled, relieved that Gabe was dropping it.

"Yeah, but if you decide you want to make a stop in the city, you just let me know."

"I will, but we have to commune with nature and have our visions first, right?" Brendon teased. 

Gabe beamed at him. Brendon shook off his own thoughts and tried to remember why he was here.

*** ***

"Oh my God, you kidnapped somebody." 

There was a guy standing on the folding stairs of a shiny, silver Airstream trailer camper when they parked sideways on the small patch of Astroturf laid out in front of the camper like a lawn. He had dark, shaggy hair and was shaking his head disapprovingly. 

"Shane, what the fuck's up, buddy?" Gabe asked as he climbed out of the car, throwing his arms around the guy and swinging him around. 

"Get off me, you know what's up. You paid me to get you a camper put out here. And your manager -- who is hiding in _said_ camper -- has promised me an exclusive photo spread of Gabriel Saporta, _rock star_ ," Shane said, pushing his shaggy hair back and squinting at Brendon in the bright sun of the afternoon. “I do not want it to be in a prison yard after you are indicted for kidnapping. You think you look good in orange, but I know better.” 

"Hi, I'm Brendon, I'm his inspiration," Brendon said as he jumped down from the SUV. He held out a hand for Shane to shake. “Totally here voluntarily. No jail. For that, at least.” Shane laughed and took Brendon’s hand in his own. It was warm and a little damp in the desert heat. 

"I can see that, nice to meet you. I'm Gabe's neighbor back in Vegas,, even though he thinks I'm his gofer for some reason," Shane said with a laugh..

"Well, you did get him a camper," Brendon pointed out. "You're a photographer?" 

"Yeah, I do all right. Gabe’s manager throws me some high-profile work once in a while -- that's how I got blessed with a fancy house on Saporta's block. My wife and I let our dogs use his backyard as a bathroom," Shane said. “In revenge.” 

"Dude, thanks for telling me, ew," Brendon said, then frowned. “Wait, what house in Vegas?” 

But Gabe had already disappeared inside the trailer. Brendon could hear him arguing with someone whose voice Brendon didn't know, so he lit a cigarette and followed Shane over to the SUV so they could sit gingerly on the bumper. 

"So, how do you know Gabe? You don't look like a groupie," Shane asked.

"I didn't know how famous he was until he came home with us from New York. Or that he was famous, at all. I was kind of a sheltered kid. His friends kind of -- adopted me a year ago. I was getting over a bad breakup when I met Gabe and so was he. We sort of got over our breakups together," Brendon said with a shrug. “Rebound sex is more fun with a friend.” 

"Why'd you need adopting?" Shane asked, blowing a plume of smoke into the air. “You don’t seem like you’re that young.”

"I'm AWOL from the Mormon army.. Or something. I keep forgetting my clever ways of describing it. I was LDS, on my mission, and my friend Vicky T convinced me to stay with her instead," Brendon said.

"Mission that bad?" Shane asked curiously. “I grew up in Vegas, and it seemed like all the LDS kids I knew were all gung-ho for it.” 

"Depends on your perspective, I guess.” 

Shane raised an eyebrow. 

“Were you far from your family? Do they even know where you are?” he asked. He sounded like maybe he was worried about Gabe’s kidnapping charges after all, but Brendon just shrugged again. 

“Maybe if my parents could have dealt with the whole 'I'm gay and proud' revelation then I'd have a family outside of the church, but we play the cards we're dealt," Brendon said. "Wow, that's way more than you asked."

"It's cool, I'm used to it. Between Gabe and Pete -- you'll meet him shortly, I'm sure - you'll fit right in with the maniacs," Shane said. 

"Sounds like fun, and that's what I'm here for," Brendon said with a laugh.

"Can I take some pictures of you?” Shane asked after a few moments of companionable silence. “I've got a new roll of film and I'm going to get bored pretty soon."

"I'm not really looking my best right now, dude," Brendon said. He was sweaty and gross from the drive. 

"Natural, I like the natural look,” Shane said. “It's just for fun, dude." 

"If you walk me around and give me the lay of the land, I'll be glad to pose for you," Brendon said. "Vicky would love some pictures."

"Sweet. And no posing, I hate working with models," Shane said. 

"Show me where the supplies are, then, while we're all sober. I know how Gabe rolls.What's up with the Pete guy?" Brendon asked, as the volume of voices inside the trailer increased.

Shane laughed. 

"Gabe sort of took off without a word, hid in New York for a while before ditching his phone and going into hiding. Pete put a lot into his relationship with that bitch. He’s understandably upset."

"Oh, I didn't get that he was hiding when I met him in New York. I knew he was upset, though. Is he in trouble? I mean, is he going to lose his job or anything?" Brendon asked. 

Shane snorted. 

"You are sheltered. He's really fucking famous, of course he's not. Pete just doesn't like losing track of him for long periods of time. And Gabe doesn't usually stick to a schedule if Pete's not there."

Brendon flinched when something inside the trailer shattered. 

"Yeah, that happens sometimes when Pete is around," Shane laughed after he'd snapped a picture.

"Hey, you didn't warn me," Brendon said. 

"You look like the type that would pull a face and I told you I hate people that pose," Shane said with a smile. "Besides, your face was priceless."

Brendon flipped him the finger and heard the camera click as Shane took another picture. 

"I don't think I like you anymore. But is there beer? That might make me like you again."

"Gabe totally sent me a list," Shane said. “Of course there’s beer.”

"Awesome. And if there's wood, I'm totally going to work on building a fire to impress Gabe with my awesome outdoorsy skills," Brendon said when he saw the stack of firewood. 

"Do you know how to start a fire?" Shane asked. He sounded skeptical. 

"Only one way to find out,” Brendon said. Shane’s eyebrow popped even further and Brendon laughed. “I’m messing with you. Boy scouts are almost as Mormon-y as a mission. Wood, matches – I’m on it," Brendon said.

Shane laughed and unfolded a chair. 

"I have to see this."

"Watch and learn. And, like, chime in at any time with advice. I guess...I make a circle of rocks?" Brendon said, glancing around and seeing no rocks. “It’s, um, actually been a while since I’ve been camping.” 

"Just pick a clear spot away from the camper and anything else flammable," Shane said. 

"Okay," Brendon said, walking several feet from the camper and tracing out a circle with his sneaker for reference. "Now, I'll make a pile of wood that looks like a tee-pee and light it on fire. I'm pretty sure that's how the burned witches."

"That's your point of reference?" 

“ _I_ don't really have anything against witches,” Brendon said, “unless they're hexing people or something. And even then I wouldn't burn anyone alive. I don’t think. But I was an impressionable youth."

"Okay, you are totally random - but carry on, this is the most fun I've had all week," Shane said. 

Brendon grabbed an armload of firewood and glanced at Shane. 

"It's really hot today, so maybe we don't need a fire. But tonight it'll be cold and I'm just being proactive, right?"

"Totally," Shane agreed easily.

He bantered with Shane while he stacked the wood and put a couple of those 'firestarter' logs in the center of the cone and a couple of sparklers stuck in the top. 

He lit the sparklers first before working on the quick-starting logs. 

"Well, at least those magic logs at the bottom will burn a while and the sparklers are pretty," Brendon said, turning to Shane. 

"Good job. Now come have a beer," Shane said.

"Is Gabe going to be stuck in there all night?" Brendon asked, collapsing in the chair beside Shane and accepting a cold beer. The sparklers were fizzing, but nothing else seemed to be happening. 

"Maybe. Pete's pretty pissed. Well, more concerned, but it comes off as pissed," Shane said. 

"Gabe told us all he was on vacation," Brendon said. "Not that he was hiding."

Shane shrugged. 

"I don't think Gabe thinks about Pete the same way that Pete thinks about him. I mean, Pete drove by the house every day that he was gone. I think...he wanted to be there for him after that bitch dumped him. And Gabe ran. Not from Pete, exactly, but still..."

"Oh no, but Pete thinks he was running from him? That's so sad, man. Now I feel bad," Brendon frowned. "So, like, Pete...likes him?"

"I wouldn't call it 'like.' My wife calls it 'eternal pining love'," Shane said.

"Shit. Then we have to fix it," Brendon said. "The 'pining' part has to come out of that phrase.” He stopped and took a long pull of his beer. “But I should meet him first."

"You'd just give up your boyfriend like that?" Shane asked, as his eyebrows rose in surprise.

"I love Gabe, but not that way. He's one of my best friends. And if Pete's his soul mate - as a friend, that's what I want Gabe to have. I mean, I just want him to be happy. And we have lots of fun together, even without the sex, you know? They should be happy. That woman really upset him," Brendon said. "And I was pretty upset after my ex fell in love with someone else, so we helped each other. And honestly, I think he thinks of me more like a little brother – or protégée or whatever – not like a boyfriend."

Shane raised his beer. 

"It's really nice to meet you, Brendon. People always say that up front when they just meet you, but this time I mean it. I think you're pretty cool."

"And my fire, too, right? Pretty cool?" Brendon asked as one of the sparklers finally burned down, catching a log on fire. 

"It will be when it's not hot as fuck out here," Shane replied.

"If we had marshmallows, it would be awesome. We could flick them at the camper and see if the coyotes come tonight," Brendon said. "They love marshmallows."

"No, dude, seriously, Pete would kill all of us. We'd _die_ ," Shane said seriously.

"Yeah?" Brendon replied. 

"I'll get the marshmallows, you throw some more wood and sparklers on that fire," Shane said.

"Hell, yes, I think I like you again," Brendon said, draining his beer and getting up to follow instructions.

*** ***

The camper was speckled with marshmallows and while the coyotes hadn't shown up by nightfall, the ants did but still -- Gabe and Pete didn't emerge. Brendon was glad he was enjoying his bullshitting session with Shane by the fire. 

"Uh, they might be at it a while still, but I kind of have to go, or my wife will send out a search party," Shane said, popping his back as he sat up. 

"Wouldn't want that," Brendon yawned. "Thanks for keeping me company, man," he added, bumping fists with Shane. 

"Are you going to be okay out here?" Shane asked. 

"Yup. Cold beer and stars and no coyotes, so I'm good for now," Brendon promised. 

Shane was watching him. 

"Gabe shouldn't have brought you all this way out here just to ignore you. Do you want to come to Vegas and hang out with me and Regan for tonight?"

"Where's the adventure in that? Granted, I love puppies, but I signed on for this," Brendon said. "And the tent's set up, so if they don't come out I still have a place to sleep. I think -- I need my spirit quest whether he takes his or not."

"If you're sure," Shane said. "I'll see you around, okay? My puppies will definitely want to meet you." 

Brendon waited until he couldn't see Shane's taillights in the distance before he let out the sigh he'd been holding. He popped open another beer and tossed some more sparklers on the fire. This wasn't turning out to be as much fun as he expected, but at least Shane had been cool. 

Brendon considered knocking on the trailer door, but he could still hear Gabe and the Pete's voices rising and falling in a regular rhythm. At least they were back to conversational levels, though. And no one had thrown anything for a while. 

It was getting cool fast, though, and he went to the car to grab a hoodie out of his bag, sliding it on before moving his chair closer to the fire. 

He remembered sitting on his Dad's lap while his older brothers lit the fireworks on July 4th and how scared he'd been the first time that their trampoline was going to catch on fire. 

He was always the 'little one', and he'd never been responsible enough to light the fuses, at least according to his parents. 

He still remembered the last Fourth of July he’d been home, when Mason and his dad set up the rows of rockets. He hadn't even bothered to ask if he could light them because he already knew the answer. 

He didn't belong there. He wasn't a Urie anymore. He didn't think he'd been one for a long time. 

He thought it would hurt less by now. He thought he'd stop missing them by now. 

He sighed heavily and went back to the car again and got out his guitar, hoping the smoke from the campfire wouldn't fuck it up. He'd made it through three songs before the camper door finally opened and a short guy stepped out. 

"Excuse me, but what the fuck are you doing here?" 

"You must be Pete. What did you do with Gabe?" Brendon asked.

"Are you some kind of freak stalker? Because the cops can get here in, like, twenty minutes," Pete said. 

"No, I'm not a stalker. I came with Gabe. Is he in there? Did you kill him?" Brendon asked. 

He wanted to like Pete, but so far he definitely did _not_. 

"He's asleep, and he didn't say anything about having someone waiting for him. You're full of shit. Where's Shane?" Pete demanded, looking around.

Brendon sighed. 

"Seriously? How else would I have gotten here if I didn't come with Gabe?"

"I don't know, but I don't believe you for a second - if you knew Gabe, then I'd know you," Pete said with a frown, but he didn’t sound like he was certain. 

"Wake him up and ask him them," Brendon replied. "I'm not here to fight with you, I came with Gabe."

"I'm not waking him up, he's fucking exhausted from whatever the fuck he's been doing the past few weeks. But you need to get out of here before I call the cops," Pete said. 

He wouldn't have come this close to Vegas if he'd known that he'd end up actually having to go to Vegas, and without Gabe to have his back. 

"I wish I could say that it was nice to meet you, but I guess that'll have to wait for another time," Brendon snapped. "Oh, and since I'm apparently leaving – and driving Gabe's car, fuck both of you -- you can put his stuff away and take care of the camp. Tell him to text me when it's safe for me to come back."

He put his guitar away and tried not to slam the door too hard before he started the engine. 

He'd have to make sure not to mention this to Vicky or she'd send him a plane ticket home before he even had a chance to sleep in the desert for the first time. But he wished he'd taken Shane up on his offer before having to drive into Vegas on his own.

But then Shane -- his shiny new friend -- would see him cry, and that was something he could do without.

The familiar lights of Vegas should have been a welcome sight. The city had been his his home for 18 years. But they brought back so many memories that he didn't know if he'd ever consider it home again.

*** *** ***

 _"Hey, Kara. Turns out I am in Vegas, for tonight at least, if you're around. I've got my friend's car so if you want, I could meet you somewhere. I know it's short notice. Things just went a little weird and I'm here for the night and it's not that late yet, so, anyway. Hi. Maybe I'll talk to you soon."_

*** ***

He didn't know what the fuck he was thinking, but he wasn't a scared kid anymore. He had been on his own, mostly, for almost a year. Surely he could have ice cream with his sister without having a breakdown. 

It was too late to back out now, anyway. 

He glanced at his phone when it buzzed with a call from an unlisted number again. They weren't leaving a message so he wasn't going to answer it. He was freaking out enough over meeting with his sister to deal with anything else. 

He was spinning his phone on the table when he felt the hand on his shoulder. 

"Oh, Bren," his sister said, pulling him out of the booth into a tight hug. "Have you been eating at all?"

"Hey, Kara. I've totally gained three pounds," Brendon said with a shaky smile.. 

"I'm -- it's so good to see you. How are you?" she asked, hesitantly letting go and sliding into the seat across from him. 

"Good, good. My friend's in trouble for taking off from his job and his boss -- sort of -- didn't believe I was supposed to be there. So I drove into Vegas for the night until things get sorted," Brendon said. 

"Oh. That doesn't sound like a very good friend," Kara said carefully.

"He's sort of famous, I guess. So his boss is just being safe," Brendon replied. "He's a very good friend. He stayed with me when I talked to Dad. He's not as...fierce about me talking to you guys as some of the others."

"What does that mean?" Kara asked after a moment.

Brendon smiled. 

"My other friends are really protective. I...it really messed me up when I kept getting forwarded to the Bishop, and when my postcards got sent back. They get that I wanted to stay in touch, but they worry. That's why Vicky hid the returned letters, so I wouldn't get upset. She didn't make me stop, she just didn't want to hurt me by telling me I was still shut out."

"I'm...sorry. I thought it was just a phase but -- apart from how skinny you are and the tattoo -- you look...happier," Kara said. 

"I don't know if I'll ever be happy without my family," Brendon said, forcing himself not to drop his eyes. "I thought 'family' was the definition of unconditional love, so knowing that I was so evil that even my parents wouldn't talk to me, well, it was pretty hard. But for now, I'm happy enough. I have people that do love me unconditionally. And they don't have to because of DNA, they actually like me. Even if you guys can love me again, you've never honestly liked me, or this wouldn't be happening."

Kara was visibly fighting tears and he had a rush of guilt. He'd never made Kara cry before, at least not in person. 

"How are Jimmy and the kids?" Brendon asked, reaching across the table and taking her hand.

"They're good. Everybody's good," Kara said, her eyes drifting past him even as she squeezed his hand. 

Brendon turned and recognized Mason, still in his suit. He wondered if Mason had left choir practice for this. 

"You're really here. Brendon, shoot, kid," Mason said, hugging him when he stood up.

"He's been harassing me since I told him you were going camping in the desert," Kara said.

"There's a trailer that's nicer than I've even seen on TV. I didn't actually go inside, because Gabe was talking to his boss, but there's a tent and a whole truck full of supplies," Brendon said. "I guess it's like, executive camping or something."

"So we don't get to meet the infamous friends of yours that are supporting this madness?" Mason asked.

"Mase, don't, please," Kara said softly. 

Brendon's phone buzzed again, and he was relieved more than annoyed this time. 

"Excuse me, I need to take this, I'll be right back."

He left the booth before Mason finished sitting down and walked outside before he flipped it open. 

"Hello?"

_"Oh my God, kid, you didn't tell me you were Vicky T's protégée! Fuck, you have to get back here, stat, or Gabe's going to cut my balls off. I didn't know that you were her boy. She says that if you don't call her in ten minutes - fuck, if you don't call her right now -- that she's going to fly out here and kill me!"_

It took him a second to realize it was Pete. 

"Murder is wrong, she won't kill you. And you weren't really listening when I said I was Gabe's friend. How would I know you knew Vicky? Look, whatever, I'm in the middle of something right now..."

 _"Dude, it's been, like, 3 hours, what could you be in the middle of?"_

Brendon glanced behind him where Kara and Mason were watching him. Waiting for him to run away again. This was fucking hard. 

"Pete, call Vicky back and tell her that I'm having ice cream with my family, and that I'll call her when I get back to the hotel," Brendon said.

 _"Is that some kind of code?"_

"Fuck off. I'll do it, then, but for the record, I really don't like you very much," Brendon said, hitting the 'end' button and then switching the phone to the keyboard to text Vicky.

 _Mtg w/ bro & sis - fckng pete >:( will cal u l8r_

He knew he couldn't leave. He had changed too much to give up on this when he was finally meeting with Kara and Mason. And there hadn't been actual tears or raised voices yet. 

He slid the phone into his pocket and walked back into the restaurant, taking his seat across from them. 

"Sorry, Brendon. Let’s start over. How the heck are you, kid?" Mason asked. 

"I'm doing pretty well at the moment. Taking a vacation from my busy schedule," Brendon said with a smile. 

“So, is this – friend – the one that’s paying to keep you busy?” Kara asked carefully. 

Brendon shrugged.

"I'm spoiled," he said as the phone in his pocket vibrated with a text. "They do take really good care of me. And they won't let me start paying them back until I really get on my feet. But they’re not paying me. I mean, I have a job and everything. It’s not like that." 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and read the screen surreptitiously under the table. 

_XO luv u brenny b - chin up_

"Are they good people?" Mason asked. 

"Depends on your definition. I think they're good people. They’re good to me. But not by the Mormon definition," Brendon said. 

"We don't want to fight with you. You're here and we love you and...we can't just make small talk the whole time. I..." Kara hesitated. "I don't support all of your decisions, but I'm going to try and support _you_."

"Thank you, for coming to see us. I think...it's going to take some time before it's comfortable for any of us," Mason said.

"Yeah. There are a lot of things that can't be unsaid. But...I do want to try," Brendon said after a beat. 

"Really? Because...if you do -- you should come to dinner on Wednesday with Mom and Dad. We're all going to be there, just like always and well, you can come after we're done with Relief Society and we can..." Kara stopped herself suddenly, taking a breath. 

"I'll...I don't know if I'll be in town that long. But...I'll keep it in mind. It's really good to see you both," Brendon said. 

"Please, think about it. We'll...we want to see you. Please," Mason said. 

"The prodigal son and all that, right?" Brendon muttered.

"This isn't easy for us, either," Kara said softly. 

Brendon sighed. 

"I know. I made mistakes, too. But I don't... I don’t take anything back. I left the church, but I didn't want to leave my family. I can still love you guys and not go to church. That's all I can offer. If you can still love me without the church, then I'll try and come on Wednesday. But I'm not coming if it's going to be some kind of religious intervention."

His phone buzzed again and he recognized Pete's number now. 

"We just want our baby brother back in our lives," Mason said. He was biting down on his lip, and he looked closer to tears than Brendon remembered seeing him for a long time. 

"I'll call you tomorrow, okay? And -- it's really good to see you both," Brendon said, accepting their hugs and hurrying out of the shop before he lost his composure. 

He sat in Gabe’s car for a few minutes, just trying to catch his breath, before he remembered his phone and redialed his missed call. 

" _Brendon_?" Gabe answered.

"Hey. You're awake now?" Brendon asked. 

_"I'm so sorry - Pete just wound me up and I..."_

"It's okay. I just – I met with my brother and sister, and I think I'm going back to the hotel for the night. Can I come back to the campsite tomorrow?" Brendon asked.

 _"What? Why tomorrow? What happened with your family?"_

"You probably need your phone and your car back," he realized. . “Sorry, I wasn't thinking.I'll go turn my key in at the hotel and I'll be back."

_"Brendon - no, wait..."_

He hung up the phone. 

It wasn't far to his hotel and he pulled into the parking lot and sucked in a fresh breath before dialing Vicky. 

_"Hey, Brenny. What's happening out there?"_

"I...don't know what I'm doing. I think all of this was a bad idea. Gabe's got his own shit going on and my family -- I don't think I'm ready -- they...my sister almost cried and my brother...they invited me to Wednesday dinner. We always had dinner together on Wednesdays. I don't think I'm ready for this," Brendon blurted out.

_"You wouldn't have met with them if you weren't ready."_

Brendon considered her words. He hadn't cried. And he'd been the one to call Kara for a meeting. 

_"You still there?"_

"Yeah. You're right. I'm just a little...surprised. I don't think I'd let myself think about what it would actually be like. They were . . . nice."

 _"Well, they're your family, I doubt they'd be assholes, especially considering that you don't know how to be one,"_ Vicky snorted. _"What are you going to do?"_

"I have to check out of my hotel and take the car back to the camp, since you apparently scared Pete and now Gabe's feeling all guilty," Brendon said with a sigh.

_"No, you are absolutely not going back out there. You already paid for the hotel, right? Go inside and get that minibar open and chill. Gabe and Pete can suck it for a while, maybe they’ll finally get their heads out of their asses and hook up."_

"I was going to help hook them up, until I found out Pete was a dickhead. Anyway, I should go cockblock for spite, but from what Gabe's neighbor says, Pete cockblocks himself," Brendon said. 

_"Fuck them, Brenny, I'm talking to you. Don't go back there until you take some time to get yourself together. I'm so mad I didn't come with you,"_ Vicky said.

"I'll be okay. I didn't mean to make you worry. I just...I'm not freaking out anymore. I'm...I'm glad I met with them. It's what I want, you know? To have my family back on my own terms. I'll call you tomorrow, after the continental breakfast," Brendon said. 

_"If I don't hear from you by ten your time, I'll call you. I'm proud of you, Brenny."_

Brendon leaned his head back against the headrest and closed the phone. 

It had been a long day. 

He dialed Pete's number again and waited for someone to pick up. 

_"Bren?"_ Gabe answered.

"Hey. Look, I'm tired and I'm stressed out and I already paid for the room. Can I bring the car to you tomorrow?" Brendon asked.

_"You're mad."_

"I'm not mad, Gabe, I just have shit on my mind outside of our sputtering spirit quest. Either go back to bed or sit your asshole boss down and make him tell you how he feels. Can I keep your car until tomorrow? Please? You know how I get after I talk to my parents, and I saw my brother and sister in person tonight. I just... I don't want to drive right now," he said, softening his tone. 

It wasn't Gabe's fault. He turned the key in the ignition idly as he waited. 

"I'm sorry I left and didn't make Pete wake you up. I always tend to run from confrontation instead of starting a fight," Brendon sighed. "I hate fighting."

_"I know. Your ex, Gerard, he had a long talk with me at your party. Stay there, try and get some sleep and then come back tomorrow and we can hug it out, yeah?"_

"Thanks, Gabe, yeah. But you need to talk to Pete like a grown up and get whatever's crawled up his ass out now, I don’t want to have to be mad at him again before we're even properly introduced. I'll see you tomorrow. I'll bring coffee, yeah?"

_"I...okay. Call me if you need me, Bren."_

"I will," Brendon said, closing the phone.

He didn't think he'd be able to sleep with all the shit of the day bouncing around in his head. But he needed to lie down at the very least. 

He needed to close his eyes and try to figure out how to get his family back without losing himself all over again trying to please them.

*** ***

His phone rang a little after nine, waking him up, and he was too sleepy to look at the display before he raised it to his ear. 

"'Lo?"

" _Brendon_?"

He was awake instantly. 

"Mom?"

_"Hi. I .was hoping you were still in town. Kara told me that you saw her and Mason last night. Your father...he's away this morning and I had some time and...can I see you?"_

"They invited me for Wednesday dinner," Brendon said. 

_"I know, and that still stands. But...I want to see you now, if I can. Are you still in town?"_

"Yeah. I'm still in town. I've got a friend's car, though, so I need to get it back to him sometime this morning. But I can call him. Where do you want to meet?" Brendon asked. 

His mom. He thought he'd have more time to get himself together.

_"I have some things for you. Would you come to the house?"_

"Mom, I don't want anything from you guys. I can't take anything, not now," Brendon started.

_"Please. Just...please. Come to the house so I can see you. I...really want to see you, Brendon."_

"All right. I...I'll come. But I...can't make any promises, Mom, I..." Brendon hesitated.

_"I just want to see you face to face. Kara says you're too skinny and...I just want to see you while you're in town. Please."_

"Okay. I'll come by," Brendon said. "Give me about an hour." 

He showered and changed into his nicest long-sleeved shirt to cover the tattoo, and the nicest jeans that he'd packed. 

He didn't call anyone before he got in the car because he knew he'd lose his nerve, but he didn't know if he'd have any nerves left after his meeting with his mom. He was twenty years old and he could face his mother. He remembered how to do this. 

But that was before he was out, when was still technically a Mormon and still technically living at her house. 

Things were different now. 

He smoked a cigarette in the parking lot to get himself as steady as he could before getting in the car and driving the still-familiar streets into Summerlin with all the windows down to air himself out.

The neighborhood hadn't changed, and the mailbox was still dented from where he'd backed the van into it when he first got his driver's license. The decorative flag out front had a smiling frog on it, and he felt a twinge remembering how his mother used to put him on the stepladder to change the flag on the first of every month. 

He wondered who changed it for her now. 

He parked Gabe's car behind his mom's minivan and saw her walk onto the porch, wringing her hands like she always did before he got grounded or lectured. 

But it was for a different reason now. 

Her hair had more gray than dark brown and she'd gained weight. But she was still his mom. He sucked in a deep breath and turned the engine off, stepping out. 

"Brendon." When she wrapped her arms around him, she smelled exactly the same. It had only been a year, but it felt like forever. "Oh, honey, come inside, you are too thin and you need a haircut and...it's so good to see you..." she got out before she collapsed into tears. 

This was going to be hard in a different way. He hated that he'd made his mother cry but .he'd shed his share of tears over the past year. 

"Don't cry, Mom, please," Brendon said when he felt her fingers twisting in his shirt and his own composure started to waver. 

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I just...I missed you...so much..." she choked out. 

"I missed you, too, Mom. It's really good to see you. Let's go inside. If Mrs. Harris is still next door, you know how she likes to talk," Brendon said.

His mom coughed out a laugh and smiled. 

He could do this.

*** ***

"You're never going to be healthy if you don't eat meat. You've always been too thin, even if all you ever wanted to eat was dessert," his mother said, sitting beside him at the kitchen table that had been a part of his entire childhood. 

Brendon smiled. 

"That's not true. I miss meat a lot, but like I tell my friends, I'd rather give up chicken burritos than watch baby chickens get slaughtered."

His mother smiled sadly. 

"You still need to eat more..." she started.

"I'm fine, Mom. Really, I've gained three pounds, I'm not losing weight." 

He'd lost weight when Gerard had been detoxing but he'd managed to gain most of it back. 

"It's so good to see you. I...have things for you. I know that we kept you away, but...I never really accepted it. I thought you'd come back to us and I bought things for you, just...by accident. Those bright underpants that you always liked and...music notebooks and...sneakers...I just..." his mom stuttered.

"Oh, Mom, you didn't have to..."

His mother twisted her hands in the hem of her shirt. 

"I know I didn't have to. But you're my son, and you'll always be my son. Even though you're living your life in a way I don't approve of, you...you're still a good boy. And...you seem to be doing well for yourself."

"I'm doing better now that my family's speaking to me again," Brendon said. 

"But you're not coming home. You're going to go back to your friends?" she asked, but it didn’t really sound like a question. 

Brendon shrugged. 

"Probably. I mean, they...they're the best friends I've ever had. They take care of me. And -- I don't feel like a pariah just for being there. I don't have anything to prove to them." 

"But we're your family," she whispered. 

"Yeah, but I've never lived up to your expectations and my friends -- they care about me no matter what I choose to believe. I've only known them a little over a year, and I still feel like they know me better than anyone in my family," Brendon said. 

His mother took a small breath and he saw that she was fighting tears again. 

"I'm sorry, Mom. I love you guys, and I know this isn't easy for you. But it's not easy for me either."

She nodded and wiped her eyes. 

"I would like you to take some of these things with you, though. And you have to come to dinner on Wednesday. We can work this out. We'll just...take it slow."

Brendon nodded. He needed slow. 

"I'll let you know about Wednesday. I can't take the stuff right now because I have to go, but I'll...let you know."

It was supposed to make him feel better, being honest to his mother after all those months of silence. But he knew as soon as he was in the car that he'd be crying. 

She held him a long time before he made it back to the car. His phone was flashing on the seat with missed calls, but he was too shaken and confused to talk to anyone.

He had to get coffee and head back out to the desert.

*** *** ***

 _"Hey, Kara. I just wanted to tell you that I saw Mom and it was...okay. I'll call later when I know about Wednesday."_

****

*** ***

Brendon pushed all thoughts of the hours in Vegas out of his mind when he pulled up to Gabe's trailer. There was a trail of ants leading from the remains of the fire to the marshmallows stuck on the trailer walls from the night before.

The coyote experiment didn't seem like such a good idea in the light of day, not when he had to dodge marching lines of icky insects to get to the front door. 

"Bren! Fuck, what took you so long?" Gabe asked, pushing the screen door open and almost knocking the coffee out of Brendon’s hands as he walked up the stairs. 

"Had a little detour. What's up?" Brendon asked, glancing behind him warily for Pete as he put his coffee down and hugged Gabe.

Pete was sitting on the couch behind him, watching the hug with a small frown.

"It doesn't matter, are you okay?" Gabe asked, his eyes dark with concern. "Your eyes are all red."

"Tired," Brendon said. He wasn't about to spill his guts in front of a stranger. 

He really missed Vicky. As close as he'd felt to Gabe when he'd agreed to the trip, he was slightly hurt that he'd been sent away like he was out of place. 

"That's it? After you just went through something really hard?" Gabe asked.

"I don't want to talk about it right now," Brendon said pointedly. 

"Shit, are you really mad? I..." Gabe's face crumpled. 

"Oh my God, it's too early for your bullshit," Brendon groaned, pushing him away with a sideways smile. 

"Can I say I'm sorry again now?" Pete called from the couch. 

"It's fine," Brendon sighed, pushing past Gabe to retrieve his coffee before he returned to the trailer to sit on the built-in across from Pete. He saw the TV and stereo along with a stocked bar in the corner and let out a happier sigh. "Where’s the remote?"

"You -- okay, here," Gabe said hesitantly. He finally seemed to catch on to the fact that Brendon really didn't want to talk about what had happened and simply handed Brendon the remote before sitting down beside him.

"Did you guys talk?” Brendon asked, glancing at Gabe as he absently clicked through the channels before settling on the Cartoon Network. “Sweet, we have satellite."

"Yeah, we talked. And you and I need to talk, too," Gabe said, sliding close to put an arm around Brendon. He sounded serious, for Gabe. 

"About what?" Brendon asked. 

"About -- shit, Bren, I don’t think that we can have sex anymore. I'm going to try going out with Pete, at least on a trial basis," Gabe said.

"Trial?" Pete asked from the other couch, his eyes going wide. Brendon couldn’t tell if he thought that was a good thing or not. 

"Okay,” Brendon said. The sex had been good – terrific even – but he’d never really thought of Gabe as more than a friend. It did make him wish he’d broken Gabe’s no-sex-‘til-spirit-quest rule while they were still back in Boston, though. He turned so he could look Gabe in the face. “Don't make our rebound fling be for nothing, though. And tell me when you’re through with the honeymoon period so that I can talk shit about your boyfriend." 

Gabe crushed him into a hug and he had to squirm to get out he felt Pete's glare on them. Apparently, the honeymoon period had commenced already. 

Brendon didn't want to be the bad guy. He'd given Frank and Gerard time before he tried seeing them together, and even though his relationship with Gabe was different, he didn't want to get in the way and be taking all of Gabe's attention when his new boyfriend deserved it. But he really felt like he needed a spirit quest more than ever after the past two days. 

The confidence he’d gained over the last year had been shaken by the visits with his family. He'd even covered up his tattoo for his mom. If Gabe had been there, he would have told Brendon to be proud and not regret it, that his family had to accept him for who he was. But Gabe hadn’t been there, and wouldn’t be for awhile, if the looks Pete kept shooting him covertly were any indication. He felt shaky. 

After seeing them -- his sister and his brothers and his fucking Mom -- it was bringing back all kinds of guilt that he hadn't let himself think about before, when he’d been distracted by a shiny new life, by friends and boyfriends and friends-with-benefits. Now, it seemed like there was nothing left but him. 

"A spirit quest was a good idea for you, I guess, if you and Pete hooked up," Brendon said, brushing off his shirt and curling his legs underneath him. 

Gabe looked at him, concerned, but he didn't say anything to Brendon. 

"How did you know?" Pete asked.

"Shane and Vicky said that you had been pining after Gabe for years. Shane I even concocted a plan – I was going to see what I thought about you and try to play matchmaker last night before you sent me away. But after that I decided fuck it, it's your deal, and you two should talk it out. Did you?" Brendon asked. 

Pete, at least, at the decency to look embarrassed, and Gabe muted the television as Brendon squirmed out from under his arm. He was trying, but it was hard not to feel hurt at the way things had happened. 

"When Gabe wasn't trying to walk through the desert to Vegas to find you, yeah, we did," Pete said. He leaned forward, trying to catch Gabe’s hand, but Brendon saw Gabe shake his head out of the corner of his eye. 

"You're all twitchy,” Gabe pointed out, pulling Brendon back into him again. “You're upset." 

"Not at you, Gabe, I swear. I just...I didn't think my trip would happen this way. All the family stuff -- I just want to chill a little while without dealing with anything that requires thinking," Brendon said. 

"We could get you high," Pete suggested. He sounded hesitant and almost shy, but Brendon appreciated the thought, at least.

"Okay, so that puts some points in your favor," Brendon said, smiling at him for the first time. 

Pete stood up alarmingly fast and hurried off to find the pot. When the door closed behind him, Gabe put an arm around Brendon and leaned over to kiss his forehead. 

"I’m sorry stuff got all fucked up, but even if we’re not sleeping together anymore, you know I still want to be here for you, right? You let me know when you want to talk, all right?" 

"I will. Just not right now. Nice camper, by the way," Brendon said, hoping to change the subject. Gabe rolled his eyes, but acquiesced. 

"Fine,” he said. “Let's just find a nice lol-worthy infomercial and get nice and stoned." "Do you like Pete?" Brendon asked quietly, after they’d settled on a man with an Australian accent singing the praises of the Slap Chop. Gabe kept staring at the screen, but Brendon saw a smile creep across his face, soft and a lot more careful than his usual leer. 

"Yeah. It’s weird how much stuff can happen in one night. He's one of my best friends. Has been for years. But I honestly always thought -- I mean, he's always had tons of friends and he's funny and cool and...I never thought he'd want to get involved with a train wreck like me.. But -- the shit he said last night -- I think I've been looking at him in the wrong way," Gabe said. 

Brendon smiled. 

"Good, because it would really suck for me to have to give up all that good sex if you’re just planning to have a fling."

Gabe laughed. 

"Yeah, true. But we'll find you a good boytoy soon enough," he promised, looking over at Brendon with something close to his usual sly grin.

"I think I can do that without your input," Brendon scoffed. “Thanks, though.” 

Pete walked in and Gabe’s face softened the moment he caught sight of him. He caught Brendon looking at him and shrugged. He leaned over, close enough that Brendon felt Gabe’s lips brush against his ear. 

“Not a fling,” he murmured, and stood up, flinging his arms toward Pete. “Here, let me help you with that,” he said out loud. He relieved Pete of an impressive yellow hookah, and Brendon latched onto the distraction at once.

He needed a break.

*** ***

After a few rounds with the hookah and half a box of Twinkies, Brendon felt much better. 

Pete was snoring on the couch and Gabe was almost asleep with his head tipped back against Pete's feet. 

Brendon took his phone into the tiny kitchenette and dialed Vicky’s familiar number. 

_"There you are. Thought I was going to have to send out a search party. You okay?"_

"I saw my Mom this morning, but I'm back in the desert with Gabe and Pete now. They’re making me sick with their gooey eyes."

_"Back up. How was your mom?"_

"She cried. It was . . . strange. I don't really have any idea of what I'm doing, you know? I know I can't be the son they want, so why do I still want it so much?" Brendon whispered. 

_"Because you're a good fucking kid. And they're finally figuring that out. I know it hurts, Brenny, but you have to go where your heart takes you and all that shit. You love them even though they treated you like crap. You just have to make sure that you don't let them break your heart again or I'll have to open one of those cans of whupass,"_ Vicky said. 

"I just feel so weird when I'm talking to them. I don't want to lie to them, but if I were to walk in there with eyeliner on, or -- God forbid -- with a boyfriend, it would fucking kill them. I have to find a balance, and I don't know how to do that, Vicky. I'm sort of freaking out. They invited me to Wednesday dinner, you know?” Brendon said, wishing there were more room to pace in the trailer. “And my mom bought me underwear. They're making an effort, and -- I have to think, and I'm not doing so well at thinking right now. I think I need to smoke more pot."

_"No, dude, seriously --you can remember how to do this. You don't have to walk in all flaming, throwing it in their faces. That's not really you, anyway. I always pretend my parents are interviewers for a fancy magazine. Never say anything that they can use against you. Believe me, you don't want them to know all your business. They can still love the rest of you, if they're really serious. And I can be there by Wednesday, if you want me to go with you."_

"I can't ask you to do that.. I think this is something I have to do myself," Brendon said.

 _"I want to meet the people that broke your heart. I'll text you our flight details. The boys love Vegas, and it's a much better idea that a fucking camping trip,"_ Vicky said.

"God, you're making me feel pathetic. You don't have to come babysit me. I...I'm just whining. I have to do this. If I can't do this then I really am a pussy," Brendon said. 

_"You're not a pussy or you wouldn't be doing any of this. And I'm coming with you whether you like it or not. Now, eat something and then take a nap."_

Brendon rolled his eyes. 

"You're not the boss of me." Vicky cleared her throat, and he sighed his best put-upon sigh. "Whatever. I'll do what I want," he snickered. "But thanks, Vicky. We'll discuss the whole chaperone trip you're on later. Just -- don't book tickets yet, all right? Please?"

_"I'll talk to the boys about it. Call me after you've had a nap."_

Brendon rolled his eyes again and closed the phone. God, he missed her. 

He wasn't sure he could deal with Wednesday dinner on his own, but he was pretty sure it would be much messier with Vicky T's presence. She wasn't the type to keep her opinions to herself, and politeness would only go so far. He doubted that she would be able to hold her tongue enough to make it through a dinner with his whole family. 

He wanted this to work. He missed his family so much that he ached. 

He'd spent over a year trying not to miss them, trying not to think about them. He'd put everything he had into being happy without his family. But it was time for him to man up. He had to find a way to keep the good parts from the first eighteen years of his life, and leave the bad parts behind without losing the rest of his family in the process. 

He wanted to have his life with Vicky and the guys and have his family love him, too. He just wasn’t sure how to do it. 

He glanced back at Gabe and Pete, still asleep on the couch, and tried to be quiet as he slipped out of the door. It was hot, but not humid – so different from Boston -- and he sat down on the steps and lit a cigarette. 

Being back at his mother's house hadn't felt like home. Not the way Vicky's house felt like home to him now. He had felt like a stranger. A guest. 

"Hey." 

Pete's soft voice startled him, and he jumped, but he moved out of the way so Pete could open the door and slid over so the guy could share the step. They sat in silence for several minutes until Pete stretched his both his arms over his head far enough that his shoulders popped. 

"Gabe was really worried about you,” Pete said. “And even though you both say you weren't dating, he wouldn't kiss me. He said he had to ask you first. So what's the deal? If it was just sex, then..."

"We're friends. Does that make it more than sex?" Brendon asked. "I mean -- I love him, I'm just not in love with him. Isn't that the movie cliché that matches this?"

"How can you be so casual about it?" Pete asked. 

Brendon felt like he'd been slapped. None of this had felt casual to him at all.

"What? I don't. I mean – I don’t know."

"Were you just using him, then?" Pete asked.

Brendon looked over to him and took a long drag on his cigarette. 

"I don't have to explain myself to you," Brendon said. “I don’t actually know you.” 

Pete nodded. 

“Fair enough. But you will. Everyone always does. It’s just easier to be around me when I get what I want,” he said. 

Brendon snorted. 

"So I can see. Anyway, I think we were using each other. I was in love with someone before I met him and it ended...well, it ended. And I had already lost my family, and then I lost my boyfriend and Gabe – Gabe was was there for me. He was pretty wrung out from his ex, too, but he was just what I needed. And I hope I helped him, too," Brendon said.

Pete made a gesture as if waving Brendon’s smoke away, but he smiled, his teeth wide and even.

"Well, thank you. Whatever you were to each other, I think you did help him. You sure helped me. I didn't even know who you were yesterday, and you still managed to make one of my dreams come true. God, I sound like one of his fangirls," Pete said, snorting. 

"I can't believe he has fangirls. I don't know that side of him at all. When I think of Gabe, I think about piggy-back rides and shotguns from the fat joints he rolls, and, well -- really good sex," Brendon said. "Sorry. But not the rock star part. Did you know him before he was famous?"

Pete nodded, and his smile softened just like Gabe’s had earlier when he was talking about Pete. God, had they really been that dense for that long? 

"I knew him when he was just getting started. I came to an audition to be the bass player for his old band a day late, and he felt so sorry for me that took me out for drinks. He found out I was in business school and declared that I could be his manager. Even though he didn't have any songs or music or gigs, he said I was his manager and so – I was. It's been that way ever since. You know Gabe – if he thinks about it hard enough, he just wills shit into existence. At least, that’s how it’s always worked so far."

"No wonder he didn't know you liked him. It's always been about business between you guys,” Brendon said. “I think he's good at compartmentalizing things. Hell, he helped me forget about all this bullshit for months.” 

"What bullshit? Because seeing you look like a kicked puppy makes me feel like a huge asshole. Is it because of Gabe, honestly?" Pete asked. “I mean, if there really is something between you guys – I’m not going to step out of the way, honestly, but I swear I’m really going to feel bad for a long time.” 

Pete smiled again. Brendon was beginning to see some of the charm that everyone else had been mentioning for days. 

"It's really not,.” he assured Pete. “I mean -- no offense -- but I don't know you, so I don't really want to spill my guts in front of you. It's just...family stuff. I was LDS and now I’m not, so I'm estranged from my family. And I'm from Vegas, but I wasn't planning on going anywhere near the city until you pushed me into it last night. And when I was there, I had to visit, you know? And it's...I don't think I want to be here right now. I thought I wanted a spirit quest, but it's too quiet and I need..." 

Pete cut him off by pulling him into a hug. Brendon was a fan of ambush hugs himself so he returned it, but he was still startled. 

"We should go to Vegas! Not your silly Mormon Vegas -- Gabe's Vegas," Pete said. "You need to purge all that angst with an A+ party and then think about it again with a clear head during your hangover."

Brendon let go so that he could pull back and stare at Pete again. He was grinning almost maniacally, rubbing his hands back and forth on his jeans. 

"That's the worst plan ever,” Brendon informed him. “Worse than a spirit quest to the desert!" 

Pete's grin widened even further, and reminded Brendon of an evil imps from one of Gerard's paintings. 

“Just wait and see,” he said, giggling. “I’m telling you, it’s just better to let me do what I want.” 

The door opened behind them and Gabe stepped out, yawning, with his hair disheveled. He held the yellow hookah under his arm like a security blanket and blinked sleepily.

“You boys out here having fun without me?” he asked. 

Brendon and Pete both laughed, and Brendon stubbed his cigarette out on the underside of the step before tossing is off in the direction of last night’s fire pit. He pushed his thoughts away when he heard the air conditioner in the camper click on.

“No,” he said, and stood up to pat Gabe on the chest. “Just having a cigarette. But now I’m hot.” 

"We can finish this discussion inside," Pete said, standing up too and brushing off the seat of his pants.

"I agree with that plan," Brendon said, and plucked the hookah from under Gabe’s arm. He went back into the cool interior of the trailer and didn’t bother to see if the other men followed his lead.

*** ***

Brendon didn't feel like building another bonfire, and he was feeling slightly caged in the camper, so when Pete mentioned going back to Vegas -- 'Gabe's Vegas’ -- again, he told Gabe that he wanted to call off the spirit quest. 

It had never really gotten off the ground, and now Brendon just wanted to find a real bed, crawl into it and sleep until he woke up somewhere where things would make sense. 

He wondered if there even was a place like that anymore.

"You're going to have to talk to me sometime, you know," Gabe said, coming up behind the cooler where Brendon had perched to watch Pete loaded the car and lock down the camper. “Even if it’s just to tell me how pissed Shane is going to be that I made him set all this up and didn’t even use it.” 

"I'm talking to you now. I just don't want to spill my guts in front of your new boyfriend. I called Vicky. I think she might be coming out with some of the guys," Brendon said.

"Why?" Gabe asked after a beat. 

"Because I'm...I think I'm going to Wednesday dinner with my family. And she doesn't want me to go alone," Brendon said.

"I could go with you - why didn't you ask me?” Gabe blurted out. “Fuck, I knew you were pissed about Pete, but are you so mad that you wouldn’t just "

"Stop," Brendon said, holding his hand up to cut Gabe off. "This isn't about you, okay? I called her because I wanted to talk to her, and she's the one that decided to come out here." 

He didn't have the energy for this. 

"But..."

"Goddammit, Gabe," Brendon said, glaring at him. "I don't hate Pete, I'm not mad at you, but you're starting to make me mad at you with all this shit and I – I just can't do this right now. I'm tired and I'm stressed out and I just...I want to go home, and I don't have one right now without getting on an airplane, and I need you to lay the fuck off me."

Gabe looked like Brendon had smacked him but he wasn't going to apologize. He felt a hand on his shoulder and then Pete was pulling him into a hug.

"Chill out, dude. We're going to Gabe's. It’s not home, but he's got a hot tub, and all the TV in the world and a whole shitload of instruments that he doesn't play. Also, a minibar in every room," Pete said. Brendon sighed and returned the hug. Pete was growing on him. "Okay?" 

"Yeah," Brendon said. “But I have a question. Why, exactly, does Gabe have a house in Vegas?” 

Pete waved his hand in the air vaguely. 

“It’s a tax thing. He thought he was going to do, like, a Celine Dion thing at one of the casinos, and then when it fell through the real-estate market had collapsed and . . . you know what, none of that matters,” he said, trailing off when he saw Gabe’s downcast face. “I’ll just be over at the car, putting things away loudly. Never mind.” 

He walked away, humming a song Brendon didn’t recognize at the top of his lungs. Gabe watched him go, then moved around the cooler so that he was facing Brendon again. 

"I'm sorry. I'm just making this worse. This trip was a bad idea," Gabe said. 

Brendon shrugged.

"Pete was pining and now he's not. You need to go home and have lots of sex with him and then talk to me without all that pent-up sexual frustration," Brendon said. "The trip was a good idea. I'm the one that's making it all dramatic - and I will totally stop when I get a minute to breathe."

Gabe nodded and held out a hand to Brendon to help him up. Brendon grabbed the cooler from underneath him and trailed along beside Gabe towards the SUV. 

"I'll stop picking at you,” Gabe promised. “and give you even more than a minute. Let's go. For the first time in a long time, I'm looking forward to going back to my house here," Gabe said. 

"I'm looking forward to the sex he mentioned," Pete said, taking the cooler from Brendon to heft it into the back seat. 

“I thought you weren’t listening,” Gabe said, shoving at his back. 

Brendon wondered if all non-Mormons were as open about sex as the friends he'd chosen. 

He needed to stop thinking so hard. 

Gabe looped an arm around Brendon and kissed him on the side of his forehead. 

"You're going to get through this. You're a tough little fucker."

*** *** ***

 _"Mom was really happy to see you, but she said you wouldn't take any of the stuff she got for you."_

_"I can't, Mason. I just wanted to talk to her, not have her buy me underwear. I don't want any of that."_

_"You don't get it, Brendon. She's been obsessive. The Bishop has to counsel her twice a week now because she just keeps buying stuff for you. She goes to the music store and to the bookstore and just...buys stuff that she thinks you'll like. Like she's shopping for Christmas all year round."_

_"She didn't say that. She seemed fine."_

_"Yeah, but so did you, and we both know that's not true. Look, I get that this is hard for you -- maybe even harder than it is for us -- but we all have to...try."_

_"I'm coming to dinner, Mason. On Wednesday. I'm going to see Dad and Mom and you and Kara and everybody else if you're there. And we can...work on things some more. I'm not sure about anything right now."_

_"Okay. I'm pushing, I get it. I just... I want this to work out. For all of us."_

*** ***

Gabe's house was straight out of an article about McMansions. If, perhaps, someone had written that article in an alternate dimension. And in an altered state. 

Brendon fucking loved it. The outside yard was peppered with gnomes wearing plaid, and there were creepy clowns hidden in the hedges, their faces peeping out. The inside of the house was painted in bright colors, with abstract art and lewd sculptures complimenting the lush furniture. And he'd never seen so much neon in one place outside of the Strip at night. 

Gabe gave him a quick tour while Pete went to return phone calls, and Brendon let Gabe drag him into a bedroom lined with c.d. cases along the walls with a television built into the wall across from the king-sized bed. 

"Shower and bath's through that door, and I'm going to put your bags over there. You can get cleaned up, take a nap, put on some music, whatever you want..." Gabe started, then stopped, hesitating for a moment before continuing in an uncertain voice. “This room’s at the other end of the house from the master suite.”

"If you want to go bang your boyfriend, don't worry, I'll entertain myself," Brendon assured him. Still, he was glad that he wasn’t going to have to hear every moment of it.

"I want you to have the time to yourself that you probably need right now, since you won't talk to me," Gabe said.

Brendon let out a sigh and turned to wrap his arms around Gabe. 

"I'm sorry. You're right, I probably do need some time to think, and I appreciate it. And I want you to spend some time with Pete and make sure you want him for him, and that you're not just grabbing on to the first person to offer himself to you since that bitch."

"I'm sure, Brendon. I just...never considered that he might have standards low enough to let him date me," Gabe said.

"Shut up, you're awesome. Fucking insane, but awesome."

"You're important to me, too. I brought you here and I don't want to just ditch you over a new boyfriend," Gabe said. 

Brendon sat down on the bed. Despite the events of the last few days, he knew that was true, but it was nice to hear it out loud. 

"You're not. My brain's all scattered. Meeting with my family sort of spun me around," Brendon said. "It doesn't really have anything to do with you, but I don't know if I can talk about it. Even if I told you everything we said, you wouldn't know what it means because even I don't yet."

Gabe looked at him for a long moment before he nodded. 

"I get that. But I'm here for you, too."

"I know,” Brendon said, looking up. Gabe still looked uncertain, so he smiled. “You know what? A shower would be cool. And I'm going to listen to your CDs and try to take a nap and not pay attention to any noises I might hear from the other end of the house."

Gabe grinned back, and Brendon felt something deep in his gut loosen for the first time since he’d called Kara. He made a show of glancing down at his watch. 

"That should take about three or four hours. After that, you can buy us all dinner around nine so that I can make sure Pete's treating you right."

"You got it. Yell if you need anything," Gabe said, squeezing his arm and walking out, closing the door gently behind him. 

Brendon leaned back and sprawled out on the tiger-print bed. 

His life was surreal. 

Wednesday dinner was looming. Hanging out with family shouldn't feel like a trial, he was pretty sure, but he still didn't know how he was going to face his family after...everything. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number he had deleted months ago, but still remembered by heart. It only took two rings before he picked up.

_"Hey. Didn't expect to hear from you, but hey. Everything all right?"_

Brendon had a rush of regret but he didn't hang up. 

"I don't know," he said softly. 

Gerard was quiet on the other end of the line but he heard the sound of a door closing. 

_"What's wrong?"_

"How are you doing?" Brendon asked instead of answering.

_"I'm okay, Bren, but what's going on? Do I need to get one of the guys to kick Saporta's ass?"_

"No, it doesn't have anything to do with Gabe. Just -- okay, so I'm trying to...I met with my brother and sister. And my Mom. I went to her house -- my old house. -- and they want me to come to dinner and I really feel like I'm freaking out. How -- when you made up with Mikey -- how did you do it?" Brendon asked. 

_"Damn, Bren, you were there. I felt so awful for accidentally hitting you. It was like I was the one that got punched in the face with all the shit I had done to my friends and my family. It's not the same for you. I'm the one that fucked up my family relationships, and your thing...it's not your fault."_

"I know it's not the same, just -- after all that time, how did you even relate to him?" Brendon asked. "People change, but my family - they haven't changed and I have."

_"I guess it was like that with Mikey. But after I started actually talking to him, I saw that he had changed, too. But it hadn't changed the way I thought of him, the way I loved him."_

Brendon thought about it. His parents were talking to him. That was a change. He'd been to their house and hadn't been ambushed by the Bishop. That was a change, too.

_"Are you still there?"_

"Yeah. I'm thinking."

_"Can I ask why you're doing this? Why...would you go back to them?"_

"I love them, you know? I miss them. I didn't grow up with a lot of friends, just a few. I never fit in with the church, either, so it was always just me and my family. I miss hearing my mom bitch about the old ladies at the church, and I miss my dad's obsession with the garden that never grows anything because he forgets to water it, and I miss my nieces and nephews -- I just...miss them. And I've spent the entire time I was with Vicky trying to focus on the hurt so I could forget them but it didn't work. And now it’s like I can't let go of the hurt to try and get them back," Brendon said. “Even though I want to.” 

_"Yeah. I was just worried that you were .going back to them, all the way. To that life you didn't want."_

"I know I can never go back. Not like that. But...I want to try to have something with them," Brendon said. 

_"You realize that this is probably one of the few times that we've ever had a real conversation?"_

Brendon smiled. 

"Yeah, well, we both had a lot going on back then. I was kind of a whiny bitch."

_"No, you weren't. I was fucked up. I probably still am, but...better."_

"How's Frank?"

_"It's going well. Is it okay if I say that? Because I think..."_

"You love him," Brendon finished for him. "I'm happy for you, Gee. I mean that."

_"Yeah. I hope I can manage not to fuck this up. How are you and Gabe?"_

Brendon laughed, and threw an arm over his eyes. 

"Our vision quest kind of crashed and burned. And his manager's been in love with him forever and apparently Gabe loves him back. They're insanely cute together."

_"Oh. So...are you upset?"_

"Nah, it wasn't like that for me and Gabe. He's still one of my best friends and I'm happy for him," Brendon replied. 

_"One thing at a time, that’s what they teach us in AA. Get your family shit straight and then worry about everything else. I hope you come home, though -- back here. I think Ryland misses you, because he's been talking to us when we come into the coffee shop."_

"I don't think my family stuff's going to resolve itself to the point where I could live here again. But I have to try," Brendon said.

_"I know. And...thanks for calling. You should do it again. I miss you. Even if we're not together like we were...I liked being your friend."_

"You are. Tell your guys I said hello, and I'll talk to you later. And thanks -- for talking to me. It helps," Brendon said honestly. 

He had to give his family a little more time to figure out what they wanted from him. Then he could figure out how much he was willing to give to them.

*** ***

He had a quiet and enlightening dinner with Gabe and Pete -- both with matching hickeys on their throats. 

Pete looked at Gabe like Brendon had once wanted Gerard to look at him. And Gabe was definitely interested, if the manic way he was pawing at Pete at every opportunity counted for anything. 

Shane and his cool wife, Regan brought over several adorable miniature greyhounds along with bags of takeout, and it ended up being a nice, laid back change from the past couple of days. 

He fell asleep on the couch sometime after they had finally taken the dogs home with his legs stretched over Pete and Gabe's laps while they discussed business between giggles above him. 

He didn't expect to wake up with Alex and Vicky scowling down at them all tangled up on the couch.

"We can't leave you and Gabe alone a second before everything gets complicated," Alex said, kicking at Pete and Gabe's feet to wake them up. “Can we?” 

Brendon detached himself from Pete and Gabe and stood up to embrace Vicky. He buried his face in her hair and breathed in her familiar perfume. 

"Hey. It wasn't an emergency," he protested.

"We love Vegas, whatever. Ryland and Nate are pissed that we made them stay behind," Vicky said. Her eyes drifted over his shoulder to Gabe and Pete, who’d fallen back into each other’s arms the moment Brendon had moved. 

"Aren't they adorable together?" Brendon said, smiling into her shoulder. 

"And you're cool with it?" she asked, sounding concerned. 

"Yeah, I want Gabe to be happy and he wants the same for me. We could never really go out. We'd fucking drive ourselves to an early grave. Or jail," Brendon said.

"How are you otherwise?" Vicky asked. 

"I'm okay. Last night was cool. Relaxing. I still can't figure out how Gabe has such normal, cool friends. You guys are cool, but you're definitely not normal," Brendon said, laughing when Vicky shoved him away. 

"You didn't have to come check on us, I totally had it under control," Gabe said from the couch. He and Pete had opened their eyes and were looking up, bewildered. 

"Whatever, you never have anything under control. Hey, Pete," Vicky said. Pete waved a little sheepishly. 

"Where's the X-Box? I have to use the time to practice so I can kick Nate's ass at this new game when I get back - it's getting close," Alex said, patting Brendon on the ass as he reached over Gabe to drag Pete up and over to the entertainment center that dominated one wall of the living room. Vicky watched them go, then leaned over the couch and punched Gabe hard on the arm. 

"Why the fuck did you let him visit his family by himself?" she demaded.. 

"I didn't know Pete was going to go all possessive on him and kick him out of camp," Gabe replied, rubbing at his arm. “I was asleep!” 

“Some excuse,” Vicky said. “This is why you can’t have nice things you know.” 

Brendon laughed, but he pulled Vicky back away from the couch.

"Hey, it's not his fault. I think I probably needed to do it myself anyway. I should probably go to Wednesday dinner by myself, too,” he added pointedly, but he already knew it was a lost cause. "But...it was really fucking hard, and if you really want to go with me, that would be awesome. Conditionally." 

"What conditions?" Vicky asked immediately.

Brendon groaned. It was too early to have to get between his old family and his new one.

"You have to be nice. And polite. And not bait them," Brendon said. “And not act like they’re the ones that did everything wrong. They’re trying.” 

"So you'd rather have small talk and fake politeness than an argument and the truth?" Gabe asked.

"It’s my family and I know how they operate,” Brendon answered. “I should be the one that decides when and what to say to them. Because no matter how mad it makes you, the fallout's on me and not on any of you.” 

Vicky put her hand on his arm to stop him.

"I get it,” she said. “I'll be on my best behavior, I swear. This is your thing. We did our best not to interfere when you were dating the drunken artist, and we'll do our best now."

"We all know how important this is to you," Gabe added from the couch.

Brendon let out a breath. 

"Sorry," he said. 

"No worries. You apologize too much," Vicky said. 

Brendon leaned against Vicky and she slid her arm around him. 

"Thanks,” he said, “for coming."

"You're welcome. I told you when we first met that I wouldn't let you twist in the wind. I got you into this, so now I'm going to see it through."

He actually felt better knowing she was doing it out of misguided guilt over her own actions instead of because of some vendetta against his parents for what they’d done. He was angry and upset with his family, but he didn't want anyone else to yell at them. Especially not the people he wanted to convince his parents loved him no matter what.

"Do you want me to get Alex to make you pancakes?" Vicky asked, looking down at his face.

"Why don't we let Alex and Pete geek out over the X-Box for now. We can go play with Gabe's fancy coffeemaker and text Ryland pictures of our 'savagery," Brendon said. “I know I need coffee.” 

"Damn good idea," Gabe said, and reached out to tangle his fingers with Brendon. 

Brendon was glad that Gabe and even Pete were here with him, but he had to admit that he felt lighter and more confident with Vicky and Alex in the house, too. 

He wanted his family back, more than he had even realized until he’d seen Kara’s face in that diner, but he wouldn't give up the support system his friends had built for him to do it. He was selfish. He wanted both, and it meant a lot to him that Vicky had come all this way. 

"Coffee and breakfast -- no arguments -- and then we're going to hit Vegas and do some souvenir shopping," Vicky said, linking her arm through his.

"Retail therapy is your answer to everything," Brendon said. "I haven't gotten a paycheck in a few weeks because I haven't been pulling shifts at Ryland's."

His friends were generous, but he hadn’t been lying to his family. He’d been trying to pull his own weight, at least as much as he could, without relying on their money for every little thing, and he wasn’t going to let Vicky load him up with useless stuff while she tried to soothe both their nerves over the next few days.

Gabe stood up from the couch, finally, stretching his long arms over his head with a groan.

"Speaking of that,” he said when he finished, “Pete and I were talking after you fell asleep last night. It looks like I've got to go out of town in a few days -- Friday probably -- and I want to pay you to watch the house for me. Since I think I'm going to make this my base of operations for now, I need it up and running. You know -- groceries stocked, full bottles in the bar and all that jazz.”

"I don't know how long I'm going to want to stay in Vegas," Brendon replied. He wasn’t sure whether he’d even want to stay in Nevada after dinner on Wednesday night, let alone in the same city as his family. Unless it went well. 

Vicky glanced at Gabe and then back at Brendon. 

"You know I'll support whatever you want to do, but if you want to reconcile with your parents, it probably shouldn't be long distance," she said. 

Brendon hadn't considered that. Was he ready to stay in Vegas? 

Gabe reached over and ruffled his hair.

"Don’t think so hard. You don’t have to decide right now. It's okay if you don't want to, I'm just throwing it out there," Gabe said. “I figured it was the least I could do after I bailed on our spirit quest.” 

"I know. After Wednesday I'll have lots to think about," Brendon said. "It's either the end of the chapter...or the beginning."

He wasn’t sure which he was hoping for.

*** ***

He spent the next few days letting Vicky and Alex distract him with shopping trips and tourist excursions and watching Pete and Gabe struggle to keep their hands off each other. 

On Wednesday morning, he let Alex make them all pancakes and walked Shane and Regan's dogs around the neighborhood three times before he ran out of cigarettes. 

They weren't expected at his parents’ house until seven, but he had all his clothes spread across the bedroom by five, but he wasn't freaking out.

He didn't legitimately start freaking out until Vicky went to get dressed just before six. It was really going to happen.

Vicky walked into the living room with a strut worthy of Tyra Banks, stopping in front of Brendon and posing with a flourish. 

"Am I Mormon appropriate as well as fierce?"

Brendon was definitely impressed, and also slightly disturbed. She was wearing a light brown skirt that came below her knees. Her heels were probably the shortest she owned and she wore a high cut tank top under her business jacket. 

"Business lady chic,” Alex said, sounding impressed. “I'd do you."

Vicky flipped him the bird. 

"You look good, you didn't have to change," Brendon said, but he hoped she could feel the gratitude in his hug as he grabbed her. 

”I'm going to be nice, but if it kills me, it's your fault," Vicky said, speaking softly in his ear before she let him go, shaking him off and smoothing her skirt down. “Now back away before you wrinkle me.” 

"It's going to be cool. It's going to be so much easier than you think," Alex said from behind them.

"Stop helping," Gabe said, shoving him. 

Brendon smiled and adjusted his own jacket. 

"Thanks, guys. It's going to be fine. Vicky and I are going to dinner, and then when we get back Gabe will make me a mojito, and Alex will have Nate linked in on the X-Box Live and everything will be fine."

He wished he were as confident as he sounded.

"We can do that. And you guys can call us if you need us," Gabe said. 

"I got this. Remember when I had to go break up with Ryland's boxer ex-girlfriend because he was too afraid to do it? Do you doubt my negotiating abilities?" Vicky asked.

"Guys, there's no negotiating going on, it's just dinner. Let's go, just don't forget the mojitos," Brendon said, taking Vicky's hand and walking with her to the door. 

"Sorry. You know how we are in crisis situations," Vicky said when they were outside the house. 

"This isn't your crisis," Brendon said. 

Vicky scoffed and thumped his shoulder. 

"Your crises are our crises."

They were silent on the ride to his parents. It was only twenty minutes from Gabe's McMansion but it felt like seconds. It wasn't enough time for him to steady himself. 

"Okay, so no cursing, no mention of politics or religion without them asking me directly..." Vicky was muttering as he parked Gabe’s car at the curb in front of the house. He could see his brothers’ and sisters’ cars already crowding the driveway. 

"Did Ryland coach you?" Brendon asked. 

She smiled. 

"Maybe. I will the epitome of polite until that mojito later. I’ve got all the etiquette tips now."

"Good idea," he said, and then his mother walked out onto the porch. He couldn’t breathe. 

"Is that her?" Vicky asked quietly.

He sucked in a breath, finally. 

"Yeah, that's her."

She reached out and squeezed his hand, and then they opened the doors at the same time and stepped out. 

He could totally do this. He'd already done this. 

"Brendon, it's -- I'm so glad you decided to come. This must be Victoria," his mom said.

Vicky gave him an annoyed glare but smiled graciously at his mom and shook her hand. 

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Urie."

"Call me Grace, please, come in," his mother said, hesitating only a moment today before pulling him into a hug. "You're both so thin. Do they not have carbs on the East Coast?"

Brendon glanced back and took Vicky's hand and let his mother lead them into the house. 

Kara and her husband, Jimmy, were standing with his father in the living room and Brendon lost his breath when his father's eyes met his. 

His father looked old. He'd never noticed that before. There was gray in his hair and weariness behind his eyes, but Brendon wouldn't take the blame for that. His family's God should take the blame for that. 

"Hey, Kara," he said, picking her to greet first. "Jimmy, this is Vicky. Vicky, this is my sister, Kara, her husband -- and that's my father."

His father moved over and shook his hand, his grip loose, but it was more than Brendon had been counting on. 

"Good to see you, son," he said in the same calm, steady voice Brendon heard in his head every day. 

"Dad," he said. He was grateful that his voice didn't shake. 

"We'll check on dinner and let you guys talk," Kara said, patting him on the back and leaving for the kitchen with Jimmy close on her heels. 

Vicky circled his wrist with her fingers and he tried to soak up her strength as he stood there wracking his brain for conversation starters with his father. His father. 

"You can go into the kitchen, dear. They won't bite," his mother said.

Vicky glanced at him and smiled a smile Brendon didn’t recognize.

"If it’s all the same to you, I'd rather stay. With all due respect, I don't trust you not to hurt him again and I'd like to give him some support since I'm not sure you're capable of that."

"Vicky," Brendon warned under his breath. 

"You have no right..." his mother started, then stopped, taking a deep breath. "You can't judge us."

Vicky shrugged, and Brendon felt her grip tighten. 

"I'm not judging anyone. I'm looking out for my friend. You broke his heart and I won't apologize for trying to protect him from having it broken again," Vicky said. 

"It's okay," his father said, surprising him. 

His mother smoothed down her shirt nervously. 

"Let's – let’s just sit," she said. 

Brendon pulled Vicky to sit beside him on the couch. She smoothed her skirt and fidgeted slightly before settling. 

"I'm sorry,” his mother apologized to Vicky. She was sitting in the same chair where she’d read Brendon bedtime stories. It was surreal. “This is...strange for all of us. I never thought I'd have this much tension with any of my children.” She reached out and grasped blindly for his father’s hand and Brendon saw that she was shaking slightly. “Let’s – why don’t you tell us about yourself, Victoria." 

Brendon held his breath, but when Vicky nodded, she was smiling her usual smile. 

"Not much to tell. My parents are well off, and generous, and that means I get to do what I want with my life. I dabble in a few different things, mostly fashion and art. I also help my friend out with his business when he needs me to. But for me -- at this age -- I'm just happy to explore all the things they didn't teach me in school," Vicky replied. 

Brendon's mother glanced at his father, her mouth turning down. 

"Your parents don't care how you live your life?" his mother asked. 

Brendon winced, knowing that Vicky’s relationship with her family was as problematic, in its own way, as his own. But Vicky just shook her head, still smiling. 

"My parents love me no matter what, as long as I'm healthy and happy, they’re happy," Vicky replied. "They understand that it's my life. They have their own to worry about, and they trust me."

Brendon suspected his parents recognized that every word was directed at them. 

"So you're the one that convinced Brendon to give up his family," Brendon's father said suddenly.

Brendon bristled.

"I didn't give up my family,” he snapped before Vicky could reply. “I gave up your religion and you gave up on me. Vicky was there for me when no one else was. She listened to me when you wouldn't," Brendon replied. "I'm gay. I wanted to date men, not be miserable and trapped in a relationship with someone who I didn't share beliefs with or attraction to."

His father frowned but his mother was wringing her hands again. 

"Couldn't you find –something -- to share with a lady?” she asked. “You always loved kids, you wanted kids...you can't have that if you're gay. You'll always be persecuted." 

Brendon bit down on his tongue. He knew, no matter what, his parents were trying to understand, so he thought for a moment before he answered. 

"No, Mom, I couldn’t,” he said gently. “It's not a choice. It's like -- radishes. You hate radishes, right? It's not something you were taught or something you learned, it's just how you are. Even if you made the choice to eat radishes, you'd hate every meal you ever ate." . He wanted them to understand. He was just really bad at metaphors. “I don’t hate women, but living like that would make me as miserable as you would be eating radishes at every meal.” 

"I can't believe you're comparing something as serious as the rest of your life to radishes," his father snapped. 

Vicky tensed,but she let him reply, even as she clung to his hand with more and more force. 

"I can accept that you're unhappy with how I live my life. I wish you could accept that I'm unhappy with your beliefs in the same way. It shouldn't...make us less than family. I hate this, okay? I hate not being in touch and I hate feeling like I've done something unforgivable when...I haven't," Brendon finished. He saw his father flinch, but his mother was shaking her head. . 

"How are we supposed to explain your lifestyle to our grandchildren? They love you. Do you know how hard it is to look at little Sara's face when she asks where her uncle is? She’s going to see you kissing boys and she'll think it's okay for her to kiss little girls – when what you're doing is against everything we and our church stand for," his mother said. 

Vicky opened her mouth but Brendon shook his head so she wouldn't speak. This was hard enough and he didn't want to raise his voice. 

"Don’t you see – that’s what I’m trying to say. It is okay for her to kiss girls. And it’s okay for me to kiss boys. What have you been telling her when she asks where I am? That I'm a sinner and I’m not allowed to visit anymore? That it was my choice and I don't love you guys anymore? I can't tell you how to deal with your grandchildren. You raised me well, I did everything I possibly could to be a good son and it was never enough. And...I guess it'll never be enough. I get it now, okay? Your love's conditional and I don't meet those conditions," Brendon said, his voice breaking. “I guess that’s what you should tell her – don’t break any rules, or she’ll be the next one out the door.” 

His mother gasped, and he dropped his head. 

"You ready to go, or do you want to keep trying?" Vicky asked under her breath. He started to stand up, but his mother reached out across the coffee table and grabbed at the hem of his jacket. 

"Please, don't go. This isn’t going the way I wanted, but -- we still have to have dinner," his mother said. “At least stay for dinner. Everyone wants to see you.” 

After a long moment, Brendon sat down again, and his father reached over to remove his mother’s fingers from his jacket, patting Brendon on the knee in gratitude after he did. 

"We have to figure out a way to make this work without compromising our beliefs. You can understand that, can't you?" his father said. 

Vicky glanced at him and Brendon could see that she didn't understand it, but he was going to try. 

"Do you think Heavenly Father will send you to hell because you have a gay son?" Brendon. "Are you worried that because of me you’ll be stuck in the Telestial Kingdom? ? Because...I would appreciate your not worrying so much about whether or not I’ll see you in the Celestial Kingdom and paying more attention to what you're doing to me now."

Vicky took his hand again and squared her shoulders as both his parents sat in silence. 

"We'll have to continue this another time,” she said. “You have his number. The ball's in your court, as it has been from the beginning. I want Brenny to have his family back because I hate seeing him miserable but I don't think we should stay for dinner right now. It's too soon, and you all need to do some more thinking."

Brendon hated that what he felt most of all was relief at her words. 

"So you're just going to take him back home with you and encourage his..." his mother started, but Brendon interrupted. If he was leaving this house for the last time, he at least wanted to be the one who got the blame.

"Stop blaming Vicky. You're mad, because if it wasn't for her I wouldn't have had the courage to stand up for what I believe in, but it was my choice. And it’s my life. I can't believe I thought this was a good idea," Brendon said. 

"Wait, please," his mother said again, standing up as he did. Brendon shook his head, and tugged Vicky to her feet, but he paused when his father stood up as well. 

"We've gotten some more things out in the open now, we can put the rest aside for later,” his father said, startling them all. “Stay and have dinner with us, like your mother asked. We can – talk about frivolous things, I promise.”

Vicky raised an eyebrow at Brendon. 

"Please," his father said. Never once in his whole life had Brendon heard his father beg for anything. He glanced at Vicky, but she just raised her shoulders minutely in a shrug, letting him make the call. He nodded, finally, and he saw his father sag back against his chair. 

"Okay," he said, “we’ll stay for dinner. But no more attacking Vicky. She’s here as moral support, not collateral damage.” 

His mother nodded, and reached out to take Vicky’s hand.

"I apologize, Vicky. I appreciate your taking care of our son," his mother said. "I...I'm grateful that you took him in."

Vicky settled slightly beside him, and nodded. 

"He's been a good friend to me. I don't regret anything."

"She didn't make me quit my mission. She was just there for me when I did," Brendon repeated. 

"Let's have dinner," his father said, gesturing towards the doorway, where Kara stood anxiously. He put his hand on Grace’s back to steady her, and they led Brendon and Vicky into the dining room.

"Are you sure?" Vicky whispered as they followed his parents into the room where all his siblings waited. 

"Yeah," Brendon said. "I need to do this. See it through and then...figure out what the next step is."

Kara and Mason were both hovering by the door, and they each gave him a hug as he approached. Jimmy pulled out Vicky's chair for her with a wink at Brendon and they took their seats. 

"Don't give up. We're going to figure this out," Kara whispered in his ear before she released him. 

But it had been a long time since anything his big sister said had reassured him.

*** ***

Dinner was polite and uncomfortable, but he let himself enjoy his mother's cooking and just...being with his family. As his father promised, they made easy conversation about church committees and the kids’ school projects and the few movies they all had seen. 

If this was the last time he'd be with them, he wanted to remember it. All of it, even if it was just...polite and uncomfortable. 

"When are you leaving town again?" Kara asked once they’d all been served dessert. His mother dropped her fork. 

Brendon glanced at Vicky, but she was acting disinterested as she picked the marshmallows out of her Jell-o dessert and dipped them in the leftover salad dressing on her plate. 

"I don't know," Brendon said.

"Are you still camping in the desert?" Jimmy asked. 

"I'm staying with a friend across town," Brendon replied. 

"You should come to dinner at my house, if you're still in town. The girls really want to see you," Mason said. 

"Oh -- are you...sure?" Brendon asked. 

"Yes, I’m sure. I...we didn't know what to think, Brendon, when it happened. We overreacted," Mason said. Brendon knew that was as close to an apology as he was probably going to get. 

"You look...good. Healthy, and not on drugs or...wearing high heels," Kara said.

"Oh, come on," Brendon said, biting down an unwelcome laugh.

"I would never let him wear my heels, his feet smell awful," Vicky said, and Brendon saw the flutter of a smile on his mother's face. 

"I think what your sister is saying is...we love you, son. But we're not used to anything like this. We need some time to get used to it, but you're here and you're still our son," his father said. "I keep waiting for you to do something...differently. Even though you say you're gay now, and we've always considered that a sin against God...you still act like my son. And you're more confident and...happy.." He glanced down at his cup of Jell-o, and when he looked up again, Brendon was shocked to see that his eyes were wet. “It’s good to see you happy. I don’t think I ever realized you weren’t, before.”

"If we could've...listened to you at the beginning, maybe we could have watched you turn into a man," his mother added. She was crying, too, dabbing discreetly at her eyes with her dinner napkin. Kara reached out and covered her hand. 

"Oh," Brendon said again. He didn't know what to say. 

"We'd like you to stay if you could. So we can get to know each other again," his father said.

"I guess...I wasn't expecting that." He took a deep breath and tried not to look at Vicky. "My friend Gabe – the one I’ve been staying with -- he's going out of town for a few weeks. He wants me to housesit," Brendon said. 

"You could stay with us," his mother put in at once. 

"I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Brendon said, “but thanks. Gabe's going to pay me to keep house and I could use the income, so I guess I could take him up on it."

His mom's smile made his stomach clench. Vicky's phone buzzed and she let out a sigh. 

"Excuse me," she said, walking out of the room.

"I think we should be getting back, anyway.I need to make some plans," Brendon said. "You've given me a lot to think about. And this...thank you for inviting me."

He stood up, folding his napkin carefully beside his plate, and let himself be hugged by each member of his family in turn, savoring every moment. 

"You're always invited," his mother said.

"His father walked him to the front door, his hand on Brendon’s shoulder the whole time, and Brendon could see Vicky through the front window, pacing back and forth on the porch as she talked into her phone. She was probably craving a cigarette. Brendon knew he was. 

"Will you call us when you've made your plans?” his father asked as he opened the door. Brendon nodded, and was surprised when his father hugged him – hard – again. 

“I will," he said, and went to join Vicky on the porch.

He'd always called, and as hard as it was when they hadn't answered, he wondered what it was going to be like now that they would.

*** *** ***

 _"Brendon? You forgot the things Mom bought for you."_

_"Oh, sorry, we're almost home. Can I get them later?"_

_"But do you have enough clothes in town?"_

_"Yeah. And Vicky's sending me some things since I can't fit into anything of Gabe's. I .promise I'll take them next time I'm there."_

_"Next Wednesday, for sure."_

_"Bye, Kara."_

*** ***

Gabe and Alex tripped over each other trying to get up when Brendon and Vicky walked into the house. 

"There had better be mojitos," Vicky said, "or you're both fired."

"Pete fired me from making them," Gabe said and gestured towards the bar. 

Brendon turned and Pete smiled at him, holding out a fancy drink, complete with an umbrella. 

"Thanks," Brendon said, and took a long, glorious sip. 

"How'd it go?" Alex asked, looking them both up and down as if they’d been in an accident – or a war. Brendon wondered which comparison would be more apt.

"There is a definite truce. God, I've never been around people that polite. They even fight politely. I was worried I'd get struck down if I put my elbow on the table," Vicky said.

"It wasn't that bad," Brendon said. "I mean -- it sucked at first, but we all said things we'd been holding in for a while. And Vicky did really well not dropping any f-bombs."

Brendon saw Alex looking at Vicky questioningly. 

"Brenny's going to house-sit for you, Gabe. He's sticking around Vegas," Vicky said.

"Are you sure?" Gabe asked Brendon, tugging him down to the couch.

"I think so. They want to be a family again. And I...don't know if I could live with myself if I didn't try," Brendon said. 

"That's good, right?" Pete asked, handing around drinks.

"Yeah, it is," Brendon said before anyone else could answer. "This is a damned good mojito."

"I have to echo Gabe, though, Brenny -- do you think you'll be okay alone here dealing with them?" Alex asked.

"I can handle it. I mean, taking Gabe's money for living in his house isn't a real job, but it'll give me time to think."

"You know that's not what he means," Gabe said, shaking his heaad.

"I want to make things right with my family. Without giving up too much of who I am this time. They say that I'm still their son, their brother, and that I haven't changed. But you guys know I have. I'm going to have to walk a fine line here, you know? I need to be steady enough to do this," Brendon said, and bumped shoulders with Gabe. "Besides, you're not taking Pete with you, so he can keep me company when I'm not kidnapping with Shane's dogs."

"Awesome. I'll show you around the office, you can run errands for me," Pete said, sitting down on the other side of Gabe.

"Maybe," Brendon said with a shrug. "I was thinking of maybe looking up some schools, or online classes, at least. Music lessons, a real job. You know, something beyond working for my very generous friends."

It had been more than a year. He’d had a taste of adventure, and of the good life, but more than anything, he wanted to build a life that he could show to his family, one that proved that he had kept the parts of them that were important to him. That he wanted to make them proud, even if it was on his own terms. And he didn’t think that working part-time in a Boston coffee bar was going to quite do the trick. Not until he’d at least tried a few other options. 

"The kid wants a life plan, I'm oddly proud," Gabe said.

"One day maybe you should get one," Vicky said, kicking at him. She laughed, but it sounded hollow. Brendon felt his stomach twist again the same way it had at his parents’ house. 

"I think it's going to be...good. Maybe. If it works out. I want it to work out," Brendon said suddenly. “Is it wrong, that I want it to work out?” 

Vicky leaned over the back of the couch to kiss the top of his head. 

“No,” she said softly. “I’ll miss you like hell, and I hate that you’re leaving, but it’s not wrong.” 

Pete sprang up, suddenly, holding his glass above his head. 

"A toast, to Brendon's visit in Vegas getting extended," Pete said, holding out his glass. “A desert rat returning to the nest.” 

Gabe groaned, but he stood up, bringing Brendon with him, and they all raised a glass. Brendon accepted their toasts, but he didn't miss Alex's hesitation to clink a glass with his own, and he put his glass down onto the table and crowded up against him.

"Hey, it's not permanent, yet...it's not permanent," Brendon said, throwing an arm around Alex’s shoulder.

"We've all got to go our own way eventually,” Alex said after a beat. “We always knew you’d figure out we were no-good layabouts and go. But we don’t give up that easy -- you're still stuck with us even if you're in another state." 

He smiled like he was joking, but it never reached his eyes. Brendon tightened his arm and kissed him on the temple. 

“Hey, those are my best friends you’re talking about,” he protested. “Don’t talk about yourself that way. You guys saved me. You’re not getting rid of me that easily, either.” 

Alex covered Brendon’s hand on his shoulder with one of his own. 

"Just . . . .don't let them suck you back into it completely," he said, his voice oddly fervent. “Just promise me that, at least.”

"I'm not going back to the church. I just miss having a family that I have more than a two-year history with, if that makes sense," Brendon said. 

"It does,” Vicky said, coming up with fresh drinks for them both. She looked at Alex’s face and sighed. 

“Why so glum, chum?” she said, bumping her hip against Alex. “Afraid that you won’t be able to handle me alone?” 

Alex stuck his tongue out at her, and Brendon felt him relax for the first time.   
“I hate it when our little group changes,” he said with a pout. “And we just got him broken in the way we like, too.” 

Vicky laughed, but Brendon still didn’t like the way Alex’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. 

“I swear, I’m not leaving you guys, You’re my family, too.” 

Vicky looked over at Alex’s face again and nodded decisively. 

“And I'm sure we'll be taking more frequent trips to Vegas if you decide to stay longer than a few weeks," she said. “Alex is right. We just got you broken in to our satisfaction. We’ll need to keep you up to speed.” 

"You guys had lives before I came around," Brendon said. “I’m pretty sure.” 

"Yeah, but they weren't as interesting. Hanging out with you was like reliving the best parts of our hell-raising years," Alex said, but he looked happier at Vicky’s declaration. 

"These aren’t your hell-raising years?” Brendon asked incredulously, and was happy to see Alex smile for real. “Well, I'm glad to be of service, then, I guess." He took one of the glasses out of Vicky’s hand and gestured around the room with it before taking a sip. "It sucks that you all can’t stay here forever. But this is sort of huge for me, and I want to see it through. Also, these mojitos really are amazing."

"Pete will make them for you every night when you two stay in so you can make sure that he's not cheating on me," Gabe said from the sofa where he’d sprawled out again.

"I resent that," Pete said, but he jumped on top of Gabe without any hesitation, grinning. 

"Thanks, guys,” Brendon said. “For everything. I feel like I just ran a marathon...but I'm glad I went tonight. I want this to work," Brendon said. "And I couldn't have done it without you guys. Well, probably without Pete, but he makes good drinks." 

“To Pete,” Gabe said, giggling, raising his glass above the back of the couch, and Vicky leaned over to knock hers against it. 

"You know we don't have anything against your family, right, Brenny?” Alex asked, turning around so he could look Brendon in the eye.“We just don't want you to ever think that there’s something wrong with you, that you're not good enough,." To Brendon’s surprise, Alex leaned in and kissed him, fiercely, and he didn’t even taste like mojito. “You’ve always been good enough.” 

"He did good tonight," Vicky cut in before Brendon could even begin to process how to reply to that. She moved over to Alex’s side, carding a hand through his mussed hair. "I didn't know how to deal with that much...passive-aggression, but he waded right through it. Tell them what you said about the radishes." 

Brendon glared at her, but the smile on her lips made him relax. 

"They fed you radishes? That's traumatic," Pete called from the couch. Vicky rolled her eyes, but she didn’t make a move to leave Alex. 

“Stop making out and pay attention, or keep your remarks to yourself,” she said. “It was a metaphor, right, Brenny?” 

Brendon groaned. 

"It was a really bad metaphor, but I was honest with them and even if they don't get it yet, they listened and that...that's all I wanted. They said they were worried I was going to change, but that they could see that I was still their son," Brendon said.

"His sister said she was glad he wasn't wearing high heels," Vicky added, but her voice wasn’t laughing anymore, and Alex choked on his drink. 

"That sounds like a challenge to me," Pete said, and Gabe grabbed one of the pillows from the end of the couch to hit him in the face.

"Anyway," Brendon said, kicking at him at the end of the couch, too. "I'm not suddenly going to wake up straight or start going to church again or anything. I know who I am now, and that's not going to change. I don't think I did know who I really was until I met you guys -- until I saw how life works outside of the church. But now I know for sure that I can never live that life. I'm never going to be active again, but I'll always be a Urie. I just have to see if my family and I can coexist now that they know that too."

"I know, I'm just want to make sure that you're doing the right thing for you,” Alex said suddenly. “But it's your life, not mine." Vicky leaned over and kissed him, then smiled sadly at Brendon. 

"Just drink your mojito and chill,” she murmured in Alex’s ear. “It’ll be all right.Come on, it's been a long night and I need to recharge." 

Gabe came over from the couch and elbowed Alex, but he kissed his forehead, too, and snaked an arm around his waist so that Alex was sandwiched between him and Vicky. 

“Knock it off,” he said, “and toast Brendon’s big night. You raised him right, papi, now it’s time to let him go.” 

Gabe raised his glass.

“To Brendon, and to knowing who you are,” he said. Everyone clinked their glasses, and after a second, Alex joined in too. 

Brendon sipped the minty drink and tried to let go of the tension that had settled into his bones from tonight's dinner. It helped to know that he had people from both parts of his life that really seemed to want him to be happy. 

He knew it would get easier. It had to. It couldn't get any harder.

*** ***

"You need to get a dog of your own. Regan's getting a little upset that our pups like you more than her," Shane said, holding the door open for Brendon when he walked up their pathway with the three exuberant dogs on a tangle of leashes.

"If I knew where I'd be staying long term, I'd definitely think about it," Brendon said, bending down to unclasp the leashes.

"What are you doing today? Want to come help me set up a shoot over at UNLV?" Shane asked.

Brendon considered it. He hadn’t done much in the last few days except mope around Gabe’s house with Pete, trying not to think too much about Gabe, Vicky and Alex's departures. But hanging out with Shane outside of their houses sounded interesting.

"Yeah,” he said finally. “That would be great. Maybe I'll pick up some papers and see about classes, too. Start on the life plan that Gabe was so proud of. I doubt my grades will get me in, but it won't hurt to check. Is it a porno?"

Shane laughed, and cuffed Brendon on the ear as they walked into his living room. 

"We're not that desperate yet, it's a promo for the music program. I just thought you might want to see the place," Shane said. “Gabe may indeed have mentioned your life plan once or twice, or seventeen times, on the way to the airport.” 

"That sounds really cool, thanks," Brendon said. He'd never been on the university campus and all his siblings had gone to some branch of BYU or another, so -- other than driving past the signs on the highway -- it was uncharted territory for him. 

He helped Shane load his equipment into his SUV after they sorted the dogs out, and then they made a pit stop for coffee and snacks before getting to the campus. 

Brendon tried to pay attention to Shane's running commentary about how to set up shots and keep passing students from walking into the frames, but he was distracted by the busy campus. He'd never fit in at high school; he was never in a clique, either on the popular side or on the geek side, but he'd never been exactly a loner, either. He tried to picture himself here, walking between classes, or sharing a tiny room with a stranger. 

He didn't think he'd learn any more from a classroom than he'd learned in his time with Vicky. 

He zoned back in on Shane's instructions once he realized they'd come to a stop at one of the public plazas, and helped him unload and set up tripods and microphones, but when the group of students that Shane was using for the ad arrived in a gaggle all at once, Brendon settled back onto the bumper of the SUV and lit a cigarette out of earshot so that he could think without distraction.

He'd been a shitty student in high school, but he knew that if he didn't go to college, he'd never get a real job. Hell, even Ryland had a degree in something. He wanted to be a working musician, but he knew he'd need a backup plan. He had to put in the work and the time to earn the rewards. 

"Brendon? No shit, it is you!" 

Brendon hadn't seen Brent since graduation but his friend's smile was just like he remembered it as he rushed across the plaza towards Brendon. 

Brent had been the closest thing he had to a best friend. Brent had revolving girlfriends that monopolized most of his time, but he'd always given Brendon third-wheel invitations when he could get out of the house. 

"What's up, man? I thought you were going east for school," Brendon said, giving him a one-armed hug. 

"I did, but you remember Janet, right? We hooked up over the summer and she goes here. We're staying in her parents' basement," Brent said. "What happened to you? I saw your mom at the grocery store and she was all weird when I asked how you were doing."

"It's a really long story. I sort of ditched my mission trip," Brendon said.

"What? That took balls, man - what happened? You have a tattoo!" 

Brendon laughed. 

"Yeah. You know I'm gay, but I told them before graduation to, like, zero reaction. And so I went on my trip, for a couple of months anyway, and then I met some people. I've been living with them and it was a whole big thing, and my parents just started talking to me a few weeks ago. Everything's all weird."

"Damn, with your parents it's fucking got to be. I mean, you never said outright that you liked dudes, but it was sort of understood. Are you at home?"

"I'm staying with a friend -- house-sitting officially," Brendon said, grateful Brent wasn't making an issue out of his impromptu coming out. "I'm helping Shane over there shoot some promos for the school."

"Wait, so you're not going to school and you're getting paid to live in someone else's house?" Brent asked, his eyes wide. “That’s awesome.” 

"Yeah, so far. My friend Gabe's fucking rich and he's got housekeepers and shit, but he's one of my best friends and he's helping me out. How have you been, dude?" Brendon asked. 

He wasn't sure what Brent would think of him now. 

"I'm good, but nothing really exciting has happened to me at all – well, Janet, maybe -- but look at you, man. You're dressed all scene-y and you ditched the glasses and you look so different now. We should hang out. Do you drink now, too?" Brent asked. 

"Yeah, and I can get us in most of the clubs on the strip because of Gabe. I'll give you my number."

"Wait, can I ask - is Gabe your sugar daddy or something?" Brent asked.

"No, he's just my friend, Gabe Saporta," Brendon said.

Brent's eyes went wide again. 

"You're full of shit," he said. 

"No, and it will never not creep me out that everyone knows who he is," Brendon said. "We half-assed went out for a couple of months -- just a friends-with-benefits thing. But he's got a boyfriend now, Pete."

"Wentz? Fuck, you're hanging with celebrities, Brendon. Shit, you're totally a rebel now. We have to hang out - Janet's not going to believe this."

He hadn't expected Brent to be impressed. Brendon had disappointed his parents and hadn't even considered college for months. He hadn’t thought about what his life might look like to an outsider. 

"Good to see you," Brent said after he'd programmed Brendon's number into his phone. "I'm going to call you and you can fill me in on whatever finally cracked that Mormon bubble."

Brendon had had a lot of 'firsts' with Vicky and their friends, but he'd had a lot of firsts with Brent, too, once upon a time. The rare rules that Brendon had broken in high school – simple things , like seeing R-rated movies, drinking an occasional beer and sneaking cigarettes behind the 7-11 had all been in Brent’s company, and it was nice to be reminded that even in high school Brendon had been far from perfect. But he hadn’t been the same, either. 

His parents had said that he hadn't changed while he was away from them, but Brent had seen a difference right away. He hadn't considered how people that knew him outside of his family would react. He was honestly surprised that Brent had thought about him at all. 

"Brendon, would you mind coming here and helping me get the guys arranged?" Shane called out as Brent walked away. 

"Yeah," Brendon answered, shaking off his thoughts and remembering that he was here to help Shane and not to have yet another identity crisis. “Be right there.”

*** ***

Brendon wasn't sure if Pete had his own house, considering that he hadn’t gone anywhere even after Gabe had left. . Brendon didn't mind, he just thought it was weird. He was actually glad that he didn't have to stay in the big house by himself.

"It's all about faces," Pete said. 

Brendon groaned, popping his shoulders as he settled in for one of Pete's epic lectures.

He liked Pete, but after a couple of joints Pete liked to discuss the secrets of life.

"You know -- what you show to the world at large, it can't all be the same. Everyone has different faces because you can't act the same sitting at a desk job as you do on Friday night at the club. I mean, sex and parents don't go together. If you knew your parents were having kinky sex when you weren't home, would you really want to know that when you come to do your laundry? Hell, no.It's all the same thing," Pete said, nodding sagely.

Brendon stared at him. He needed to see if Shane and Regan would start smoking up with him. He wondered, idly, if they had the ingredients for nachos in the house as Pete continued, seemingly without any need for Brendon’s input at all. 

"I'm not making sense yet, but seriously, just wait. We have different sides we show to different people. Your friend from high school didn't know about the shit you were going through at home - he knew the fun side of you, you didn't tell him all your other shit. And your parents didn't know you were out watching - R-rated movies with him and lusting after boys. They didn't need to; the two parts didn't have to intersect. You can still be yourself without putting everything on the table," Pete said.

Either Pete had scored some really good weed, or he was starting to make a disturbing amount of sense. Brendon nodded and shifted on the couch. 

"Okay, I follow most of that,” he said. “But...it's weird. Now it is, anyway. I have a whole new set of experiences that make me who I am, and nobody from Summerlin can ever really understand how much I've changed. They still see me as that guy in the big red glasses with no swagger." 

Pete laughed. 

"Anybody else in the world would be happy as fuck to impress their old high school friends."

"If they're friends, why would I have to impress them? I guess I'm more worried about Brent liking me as I am now. I mean, it’s just like with my parents. I'm not willing to change for them, but I'm terrified that they won't want to try if they get to know me. The real me."

"Shit, man, you can't think like that. I don't know the whole story, I know, but honestly -- without being in your parents' head, you don't either," Pete said.

He reached for the bong on the table, and made an aborted attempt to pass it over to Brendon, but Brendon waved him off, too caught up in his own thoughts. 

"I know they love a God they can't see more than anything else. More than me. But how can I be jealous of God? And I grew up in it, so I know exactly what they’re thinking," Brendon said.

"You don't have kids, though. You've never had to pay a mortgage or take a kid to the doctor or change a diaper. Parents do the best they can. I got arrested the first time when I was eleven, okay, and I had great parents."

"What did you do?" Brendon asked, taking a pause from thinking. 

"I stole a watch from Macy's for this girl I thought I was in love with. What I'm saying is, I don't understand what your parents were thinking anymore than I understand what it was like to be in the closet." Pete took a swallow of his beer and grinned at Brendon. "I stole a watch when I was thirteen for the boy I thought I was in love with."

"And your parents were okay with you being equal opportunity as a tweener?" Brendon asked. “Not to mention a total klepto?” 

"Hell no, but they always said they loved me even when we had weekly meetings scheduled with the guidance counselor. But I know not all parents are like that. I know it probably fucked you up that your folks chose religion over you, but...if you try and decode people's motives, it's only going to twist you up inside," Pete said. 

"Yeah, I know that," Brendon said. He really wanted nachos now, for sure, but the kitchen was too far away. Thinking made him hungry. 

"What were we talking about again?" Pete asked, staring at Brendon with hooded eyes. Brendon wasn't sure what had even started his original philosophical tangent, but after a minute, Pete found the thread again. "Oh, yeah, you wanted to take your friend from high school out.” 

He shrugged and located his Blackberry on the table next to what was left of their weed. 

“And his girlfriend,” Brendon reminded him. “He wants to bring his girlfriend along.”

“We could go to _Vague_ \-- it's a brand new club one of my buddies opened. The VIP section's pretty quiet, so you guys could talk if you wanted, and the bands are usually pretty good. It won't be too over-the top and hopefully that will keep you from stressing. Hey,” Pete said suddenly, looking up from the tiny screen, “You want to help me buy a trampoline?" 

Brendon blinked at him. 

"What?"

"A trampoline. I've been thinking about putting one in Gabe's backyard to surprise him," Pete said.

"And where did that come from?" Brendon asked.

"Dude, the track for my train of thought is winding and mysterious," Pete replied.

"You know you can't have sex on it, right? You'll bounce off and die a painful death," Brendon said.

Pete frowned. And Brendon tipped his head back against the couch, laughing. Pete and Gabe really were made for each other. 

"Do you think they make them in hot pink? He'd love that," Brendon said.

"Dude - no - flannel, and then we can set the gnomes up to worship it," Pete said. 

Brendon made a mental note that if Pete and Nate were ever together in the same room he had to fucking be there.

*** ***

"A trampoline? Isn't that dangerous?" his mother asked, shoveling another scoop of potatoes onto his plate. 

"I was actually thinking of getting one for the girls," Mason said. 

"It's fun, but tiring. We have it right by the pool," Brendon said. "Oh, with some mats in between so we don't die, so it's completely safe."

His mother frowned at him but her eyes were bright. He remembered that look – faintly disapproving but secretly amused – from more than one high-school grounding session. 

"Did you look at any schools or put in any real job applications this week?" Kara asked. 

"Don't push it," Mason warned, but Brendon was actually more relaxed at dinner without Vicky around, and his parents seemed calmer, too. 

"I got some pamphlets from UNLV, but it's more expensive than I can do right now. They take credits from community colleges, though, so I might try to do some survey courses somewhere and then go straight into my major courses at UNLV or somewhere else later on," Brendon said.

"In Las Vegas?" Kara asked.

"Maybe," Brendon said. He'd looked at some schools near Vicky, too. It wasn’t like Boston lacked for colleges. 

"What do you want to major in?" his mother asked. 

"Music," Brendon said. "It was always going to be music if I got to choose."

His father looked at his mother. 

"We should've known that answer," he said, smiling slightly. 

It was nice to talk about something other than his sexuality and sadly, the talk of his scholastic future was actually a safe subject now that BYU would never be an option for him.

"I'm going to wait a little longer, though, at least until the next semester. I want to make sure I do the right thing so I'm checking out all my options. I was thinking of volunteering a little to kill time when I'm not helping Pete or Shane, though," Brendon said.

His mother's face lit up. 

"You should come down to Haven," she said, mentioning the nursing home where she'd been volunteering through the church since he was young. In fact, Brendon wasn't sure that was a very good idea, considering how many of the church members did volunteer work there. 

“I don’t know,” he said, trying to find a way to let her down gracefully, but his mother plowed on. 

"It's during the school year now, so the youth choir doesn't go and sing as often. You could bring your guitar. I wouldn't even say anything about what songs you chose," she added with a smile. 

She looked too hopeful for him to think of a good excuse.

"It would look good on an application," Kara said. 

"I'll think about it. But that sounds...okay," Brendon said. 

His mother’s smile widened. 

"I'll ask Agnes about an application. It would be nice to be able to spend some more time with you," she said. 

Brendon didn't mean for it to happen, but he got flare of warmth inside from making his mom look so pleased. 

"So you are considering staying in town," Kara said. Sometimes he forgot that she was married to a lawyer. 

"I'm considering a lot of things, Kara," Brendon said.

*** *** ***

 _"Dad? Is everything okay?"_

_"Yes, I just wanted to talk to you about something without everyone lingering about."_

_"Oh."_

_"We have a college fund for you. It's not as much as you'll need because we were going to work out a scholarship with BYU for you like we did for the other kids, but..."_

_"You...want to help me pay for school?"_

_"I wanted to tell you it's conditional on your staying in Vegas, but I won’t do that because that would go against everything we've been trying to mend. I wanted to tell you that we'll take out loans for you to go to UNLV. But I can't because I don't want you to have debt."_

_"So...what are you telling me?"_

_"That .I want to help you pay for school. So if you decide to enroll, you should let me know and I can transfer the money over. And if you want to use it for rent somewhere close...or somewhere...we can talk about it."_

_"You don't have to, Dad, you can use it for something else..."_

_"We saved this money for you. I just wanted to tell you so that you would...have another reason to stay. If you wanted to stay. And so that if you decide you don't...you'll knowthat we still support you. I... I don't want it to be a bribe, just a reason."_

_"Dad."_

_"Sorry. I'll see you Wednesday."_

*** ***

The first few days at the nursing home were uncomfortable for Brendon, but after he started throwing in a few old Motown tunes between the requested hymns, he ended up with a bigger crowd of patients on each subsequent visit..

And one of the patient's daughters approached him to sing to her mother individually when the elderly woman was on her deathbed. That had been strange, but the daughter's teary smile when she hugged him in thanks after made him feel like he was at least doing something right.

He didn't miss Gabe and Vicky as much now that he was staying busy, and he'd found community colleges in Vegas and near Vicky that had the courses he'd need to get credit at most public universities in either city. 

He had finished playing for the afternoon crowd and was headed home for another action-packed night of take out and bad movies on the couch with Pete, and possibly some bass guitar wars if Brent came over. Pete was pretty good at the bass and Brent had played in their high-school jazz band, and Brendon was learning a lot from watching them battle with each other. 

He almost ran right into the nurse standing in the hallway. He'd seen the guy around, -- it was hard to miss one of the few male nurses in the home -- but he hadn't talked to a lot of people that weren't patients yet. 

"Sorry, almost knocked you down there," Brendon said, gathering up his scattered sheet music.

"It's okay. I meant to get in your way," the guy said, bending down to give Brendon a hand. . He had blue eyes and a neatly-trimmed beard under shaggier brown hair, and – wow – a really nice smile. 

"Oh?" Brendon asked, but he didn’t elaborate, just handed over the sheath of papers to Brendon. 

He was cute, for sure, and Brendon wondered how he'd look in real clothes and not just scrubs.

"So, are you a friend of Mrs. Urie? Because you really don't look like -- well -- the other volunteers she brings," the nurse asked.

"Uh, yeah. Or, um, no, really. . She's actually my mother, but I'm not sure we're reconciled enough for me to tell people that," Brendon said. 

"Oh, wow. It's nice to meet you. She's talked about you a little. You ran away or something, right?" the guy asked as they both stood up again. 

"Or something," Brendon said. "I'm a little old for running away, you know? I'm Brendon."

He stuck out the hand that wasn’t holding his guitar and Spencer shook it. He even had a nice handshake – firm and dry. 

"I’m Spencer. Sorry, I know it's none of my business, but I like listening to you play and with the tattoos and the stickers on your guitar case, I just wondered what you were doing here with the..."

"With the Mormons right?" Brendon said with a smile. "Yeah, that's kind of the point of my staying clear of my mom -- Grace -- I'm not actually sure what she wants me to call her while I’m here."

“So you’re not that close, I guess,” Spencer said after a moment’s hesitation. 

Brendon shook his and a bit down on his lip for a minute. If he was going to stay in the area, they all had to get used to these sorts of situations. 

“Not so much, no. Hence the not-running-away, etc. But we’re trying to work things out, so I’m staying out here for a bit, housesitting for a friend. I haven’t lined up a regular job yet, so I figured I might as well do something in meantime – occupy my time, give a little something back, you know. 

"Yeah,” Spencer said. “So, you don't live here?" He sounded almost disappointed. 

"For now I do. But my friends live on the east coast. I'm not sure Vegas will ever really be home again for me," Brendon said, then he flushed. 

"No, no, it's cool,” Spencer said. “And honestly, it's nice to have someone else that's not walking around humming hymns all day.” 

Brendon shifted his guitar case, trying to keep the sheets of music tucked up under his arm, and Spencer reached out and tugged at them. 

“I could give you a hand, if you were headed out. I’m on break. You look like you could use a third hand,” he said. Brendon nodded thankfully and they made their way down the nearly-deserted corridor towards the front door. 

“I heard you singing Blackbird to Mrs. Jenkins the other night. You're really good," Spencer said when they came to a stop in front of the doors. "And now that I know that you’re not – Mormon -- .maybe if you're not busy sometime we could . . ." he trailed off, searching Brendon’s face, and Brendon finally caught on. 

"Wow,” he said, “are you asking me out right now? Because that would be awesome."  
Spencer smiled slightly. 

"Yeah? Awesome? Really?"

"Really,” Brendon assured him. “Let me get your number, but you should come over and hang out, whenever. I have a lot of free time right now." 

"Where do you live?" Spencer asked, handing back Brendon’s sheet music so that he could pull his phone out of the front pocket of his scrubs. 

Brendon scribbled down Gabe's address on the back of his copy of _Ring of Fire_.

"It's in this really rich little subdivision, but at least the neighbors have finally stopped thinking I was a one-night stand that never went home. I walk some of their dogs for them now, and Gabe's house is awesome."

"Gabe Saporta? Wow," Spencer said. "Not sure I can live up to that kind of history Is he – are you . . .."

"Gabe's a friend. We never went out, not really. We just had some friendly sex," Brendon said.

"Oh. Um – wow, are you sure you’re Grace’s son?"

"I’m pretty sure she asks herself that all the time. Sorry -- I don't really have brain-to-mouth filter, as you can obviously tell. I'm not a slut or a groupie, I swear. I just don't think..." Brendon started, but Spencer cut him off.

"It’s fine. I promise I’m not juding you, but let's not talk about that kind of stuff in here. These guys pretend like they can't hear, but they gossip about us the minute we leave the room," Spencer said, casting a glare at Mrs. Harrison, who started rolling her chair a little faster down the hall. 

"But you should come by. I'll order dinner, or something," Brendon said. "I don't know many people in town anymore -- now that I'm a pariah anyway -- but..."

Spencer put a hand over Brendon’s mouth, laughing. He smelled like latex and vanilla lotion. 

"Okay, okay. I'll come by later. Don't have a meltdown. With an invitation like that, how could I not?" he asked, but he was smiling when he said it. 

Brendon grinned back when Spencer took his hand away and nodded. 

“Great, I’ll see you later, then,” he said, and watched as Spencer walked back down the hall. He was still standing there, smiling at nothing, when his mother rounded the corner and almost bumped into him. 

"Oh, hi," he said. Things were slowly starting to improve between them, but he was never quite sure how to act around her in public, especially right after a hot nurse had just asked him out on a date. But she smiled almost as warmly at him as Spencer had. 

"Hi, I heard you played a few of the old hymns today. The patients are going to start requesting those more often, you know," she said, brushing an invisible piece of lint off his shoulder. "Does it bother you to have to sing those songs?"

"No,. does it bother you to hear me sing them?" Brendon replied after a beat. 

"Of course not, you’ve always had a beautiful voice," she said. "You know, Horace Grissom is getting married in a few months. He asked me if you would be interested in singing at his wedding, if you don't mind. His fiancee hasn't converted yet so there’s not going to be a Temple wedding, and she has some requests that James doesn't know."

"Sure, give him my number, and I'm sure I could," Brendon said, stunned. 

"And...are you coming to dinner on Wednesday?" she asked.

"Do you want me to? I mean, I came last week and it was...weird," Brendon said.

"I think it's going to be weird for a while. But you should come. Every Wednesday. I found a recipe for vegetarian tacos. You're too thin, and rabbit food's not enough for your energy. I want you to eat at least one decent meal in front of me," she said decisively, raising her eyes to meet his gaze. 

"Okay," Brendon said. "Then I'll come Wednesday."

She smiled slightly at him. "Good. And...and, just...Spencer's a nice boy."

Brendon stared after her as she walked away. 

What was that?

*** ***

"What is happening to me?" Pete groaned. 

He was sprawled across the couch when Brendon got home with a couple of six packs of beer and snacks for Spencer if he showed up.

"Uh, I'm not sure -- what do you think is happening to you?" Brendon asked. 

"I think Gabe Saporta is eating my brain. He's trying to make me spontaneously combust," Pete said. 

"Oh, is he answering your schedule emails with dirty webcam pictures?" Brendon asked.

"What? How do you know that?" Pete demanded.

Brendon shrugged. 

"I helped him set up his webcam. Something about him not wanting to lose touch with the best thing that ever happened to him."

"Wait, what? He really said that?" Pete asked, hurrying over to take a bag of the groceries from him. 

"Dude, you're the first boyfriend he's ever had. Not girlfriend, not fuckbuddy, but actual boyfriend. And you know how Gabe is better than I do. He was over the moon when you finally admitted it. I think he loved you anyway, you know? He just needed you to step up. And now he's bending over backwards to keep you happy. I mean, from the way Vicky talks, Gabe never keeps appointments," Brendon said. 

"He's not helping with the gratuitous porn. I mean, I miss him so much already and this is making it so much worse."

"Then why don't you go see him? You're his manager, you can do that, can't you?" Brendon asked.

"I have meetings all next week," Pete said with a frown.

"Then send him videos back. You'd probably make him happy," Brendon said. "You want me to help you with the webcam?"

Pete was chewing his lip. 

"You think?" he asked. 

"Yes, dude, I'll even dig out some of that hokey porn music from the seventies that my friend Nate sends to me," Brendon said. 

"But it's just...weird, right? Beating off on camera?" Pete asked.

"Gabe's weird. You're weird. What's the difference?" Brendon asked.

Pete embraced him warmly. 

"You're awesome, okay? Awesome."

"I am, but here’s the thing -- I have a date tonight. I think. Not even a sex date, but an actual date with an actual boy," Brendon said. 

"Congratulations, do I need to call in a background check?" Pete asked.

"Please, don't. He asked me out, and it wasn't from a club or a friend's recommendation, or anything. He works at the nursing home," Brendon said. 

"Ooh, tell me more," Pete said. “Way to make charity work for you.” 

Brendon groaned and walked into the kitchen to start putting groceries away. 

"Maybe after we actually have more than a conversation there’ll be something to tell. You need to go start working on your porn now and let me clean up the house a little," Brendon said.

"I think I'll just hang out here, make sure he's not a perv. Gabe gave pretty clear instructions to look after you," Pete said. 

Brendon rolled his eyes. 

"I have food and water and I had my exercise today. I think I'm good."

"Fuck off. Seriously, what can I do to help?" Pete asked.

"Go make porn for your boyfriend and don't distract me. I'm so on top of this," Brendon said. “Also,if you not be making porn when the real boy gets here, that would be awesome. In fact, it would be even more awesome if you just weren’t here at all.” 

Pete waved his hand in the air at that absurd notion. 

"Whatever. How'd it go with your mom today? Is it working -- the volunteering?" he asked.

"It's...okay. I think it gets a little easier every day. She told me she wants me to start coming to Wednesday dinners, like, regularly," Brendon said. "That's good right?"

"Is it?" Pete asked. 

"Yeah. They're still my family. And...I do miss them, you know? I mean, I miss them. So it's good. I think," Brendon said.

"Yeah. Do you think I should dress up?" Pete asked.

Brendon smiled. 

"Seriously, dude, do not ask me to give you sex tips for Gabe. That's your business now. I'm done with group sex, too, for the record, so don't even ask about a threesome."

Pete looked like he was going to pout but the doorbell rang and they both raced to answer it, colliding in the foyer. 

"You don't even live here!" Brendon protested when Pete opened it with a flourish. 

"Can we help you?" Pete asked, throwing an arm around Brendon's shoulders and smiling brightly. 

Spencer glanced between them. 

"Hey, Brendon. Is it too early?"

"No, Pete was just leaving," Brendon said, physically pushing Pete outside the door and pulling Spencer inside. "Bye, Pete."

"But I'm not done giving you the sex talk!" Pete called through the closing door.

"Ignore him, he sucks," Brendon said. "Did you find the place okay?"

"Uh, yeah. I mean, it's a huge house. How'd you even end up living here?" Spencer asked.

"Long story, many chapters," Brendon replied. 

"Well, we have time, right? Since you're making me dinner? I brought some wine, nothing as fancy as you've been used to drinking, probably, but..." Spencer started.

"Dude, I drink beer, but we can totally drink your fancy wine, if you want. I'm vegetarian, but I'm totally making you whatever you want. I will even touch icky meat for you, Spencer," Brendon vowed with a smile. . 

"And your...friends -- Gabe, or Pete -- they won't care?" Spencer asked.

"No, I mean, they'll probably interrogate the hell out of you, but Pete and Gabe are the item now, not me and anyone else. It's a really long story," Brendon said again. 

"Couldn't be that long," Spencer smiled. "Start at the beginning - what happened with your folks? And the not-running away from home. I want to hear more about that."

Brendon considered how to frame it considering the still-delicate reconciliation, then shrugged and headed for the kitchen, Spencer at his heels. 

"Well, when I graduated high school, I finally decided to put my cards on the table and came out to my family. I knew a long time ago that I was very much not straight. And, well, they basically ignored me and I chickened out. I have, like, zero self-confidence so I went along with all the things all good Mormons do. I went on my mission, where you travel and spread the word. And it was awful."

Spencer winced but he was listening as he sat down at the counter in the kitchen. 

"I made it for a couple of months before I ended up at Vicky T's house to witness to her about LDS, but we talked and she made me an offer I couldn't refuse," Brendon said.

"I thought that only happened in pornos," Spencer said, his eyes bright with amusement.

Brendon smiled, and rooted around in Gabe’s drawers, looking for a corkscrew. 

"Not like that, perv. No, we just talked. She helped me see that I would never be happy following rules I didn't believe in. She told me I could stay with her and that she'd help me figure things out."

"So...you just believed a stranger? You moved in with some a random stranger?" Spencer asked. “And here I was worried that you were going to think I was weird for asking you out in a nursing home . . .”

"It sounds stupid, but, yeah. She had a Fender Strat in the guest room and...well, that was it for me. Plus, they'd done it before. Vicky and her friends like to enlighten missionaries, which sounds awful, but it...they're great once you get to know them. She let me stay there and educated me in all the things I never got to experience before. I’ve had a crash course in life over the past two years."

"Mormons aren't that bad," Spencer said. "I mean, I don't know what it's like, but I know a few Mormons and they're really nice."

"I know that. I love my family a lot. But when I called them and told them that I wasn't staying with the church, they cut me off. They wouldn't take my calls and sent all my letters back and...it fucking hurt, you know? It still hurts. So, yeah, they're good people, but not all their beliefs are mine anymore. Even the little things – like, I love coffee, a lot. And beer and pot, yeah, I really like pot. Um," Brendon paused, wondering if he'd ruined everything.

"It's cool, I like pot, too. So Vicky and her friends taught you about pot and caffeine?" Spencer asked. 

"Sort of. I mean, I was sheltered, but we weren’t, like, Amish or whatever, so more like -- mong other things. I got my first kiss and lost my virginity and did a lot of things for the first time with them. I got to go to concerts and listen to music that my parents had always forbidden, I see all the R-rated movies I wanted, you know?" Brendon asked.

"Damn. Okay, so I see your point about the whole sheltered thing," Spencer said. 

Brendon smiled and shook off his waning mood. 

"Vicky and her friends, well, they're my family now. Or a different kind of family. They love me, even if I want to do something as insane as try to make up with my “real” family – the one that tried to forget I existed."

"I don't think Grace ever forgot,” Spencer said. “She’s seemed a lot happier lately." Brendon was surprised that Spencer knew his mom well enough to say something like that. The surprise must have shown in his face, because Spencer smiled a little, shrugging his shoulders. "I've worked at the clinic a little under a year. Your mom's always there, three times a week. I drove her home a couple of times when your dad was late. She always asked...strange questions. But now, they don't seem so strange."

"Oh, man. If you've been getting existential with my mom, I'm not sure this date can continue," Brendon said, only half joking. He sat down on the stool beside Spencer, letting his thoughts of dinner fade for the moment. 

"No, not like that. She's one of those people that find out someone’s gay and then think that person’s the expert on all things regarding homosexuality. I've been out since, hell, junior high? Anyway, she knows my mom and she was asking me all kinds of polite questions about being out and if I ever got beaten up or kicked out of places. She also asked if I believed in God, but she didn't preach, which I appreciated. I don’t know, whatever happened with you guys happened, but I don't think she ever forgot," Spencer said.

Brendon nodded. 

"Now that I'm back in town, I can sort of see see that. But it doesn't change all that time that they wouldn't talk to me."

"I guess not. I'm not defending her, Brendon," Spencer said. He sounded anxious, and Brendon leaned over to nudge his shoulder. 

"Don't worry, I'm not going to kick you out because you think my mom's nice. I think she's nice, too. But things are really weird between me and the rest of the Uries," Brendon said. "Anyway, enough Mormon drama. What about you? I want to hear your story now, but I should probably find out what you want for dinner first."

"Whatever," Spencer said. “I eat.” 

"Dude, that is no help. ' _Whatever's_ ' going to get you a cup of coffee," Brendon said. “Which is good, because that would be my specialty.” 

Spencer smiled again, wide and bright, and Brendon's stomach flipped. That _smile_. 

"How about we order something? It's pretty obvious you don't cook much, not if coffee is your speciality. I’d hate to spoil our first date with food poisioning."

"What if I told you Gabe had a cleaning lady?" Brendon replied.

Spencer raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, I don't cook much, but that doesn't mean I can't," Brendon said. He got up and grabbed the pile of delivery menus off the counter. "Browse while you're telling me your life story. So far, all I know is you're a hot nurse who chats with my mom."

Spencer smiled again and started flipping through the menus. 

"I'm not that interesting. I grew up in Summerlin, I've got two younger sisters still in high school and yeah, I'm nursing student."

"Why'd you decide to be a nurse?" Brendon asked. “I mean, it’s awesome, but it’s still kind of unusual. Fighting gender stereotypes one gay man at a time, are you?” 

Spencer handed him the Mexican menu and twisted on his stool so their knees were brushing. Brendon felt a little thrill. 

"My grandfather was sick for a few years – cancer – and he moved among nursing homes, hospitals and finally hospice at home. My parents were always rushing around to help him and I picked up as much of the slack as I could. You know, as much as I could at sixteen, It wasn't what I thought I'd be doing at this age, but...I like it. I mean, everyone wants to help a little baby that can't take care of itself, but there aren't as many people willing to change an elderly person's diaper. And not in a perverted way, just, I like helping people," Spencer said, flushing.

Brendon reached over and squeezed his knee. 

"Wow, and you asked _me_ out? Why are you even single?" Brendon asked. 

Spencer relaxed slightly and shrugged, half-embarrassed. 

"There was this guy who had me tied in knots for a few years. You're the first guy I've asked out since breaking up with him."

Brendon smiled and squeezed his knee again, then decided to leave it there when Spencer didn’t objext. 

"Wow, we’re like a two-man Broken Hearts Club. Was it awful?" Brendon asked. "Or is it too soon for me to ask?"

Spencer put his hand over Brendon’s and interlace their fingers, grinning. 

"I'm think that the one that should be asking nosy ex-boyfriend questions, considering our first date is in your ex's house," Spencer said.

Brendon raised the hand that Spencer wasn’t holding in protest and tried to concentrate on something other than the feel of Spencer’s dry, capable hand, thick with some kind of callouses, in his. 

"Gabe wasn't officially my boyfriend, like I said. Okay, so, when I moved in with Vicky, they took me out and I met this guy and just...fell in love.” 

Brendon shrugged again and reluctantly tugged his hand free. Spencer looked concerned, but Brendon just picked the menu off the counter and waved it. 

“I think I can wait for dinner for a minute. Especially when you’re telling me all about your tragic past,” Spencer said, and reached out to take Brendon’s hand again. Brendon rolled his eyes. 

“Not totally tragic. It was just -- Vicky and her friends are really open and...they taught me stuff. Vicky and Alex did, mostly, so I wasn't totally clueless about the physical part, at least.” Spencer raised another eyebrow, and Brendon shrugged. He wasn’t embarrassed about anything that had happened in Boston, but he forgot sometimes that not everyone operated the same way. Still, Spencer kept holding his hand, and his eyes were interested, not angry or disgusted. “Anyway, the emotional stuff was different. I wasn’t – I didn’t know what I was getting into. Gerard – my ex – was an alcoholic, though I didn’t know that at first. And an artist. I know, genius combination, right?” 

Spencer huffed out a startled little laugh and Brendon shrugged again. It was still hard to talk about Gerard, but it didn’t hurt in the same way anymore. 

“He was...hot and cold, angry and sad, and finally things came to a head and he decided he needed to dry out. Which should have been awesome, but, well -- he got sober and things fell apart.” Brendon bit his lip, and decided that he liked Spencer enough to tell him the truth, even if it scared him away. “I was kind of messed up, and I didn’t realize just how much until Gee straightened out and we just – had nothing to say to each other. Anyway, Vicky took me to New York to get over him, and we hung out with Gabe. Gabe was right out of a fresh break up, too, so we had rebound horizontal time," Brendon said, then slapped his free hand over his mouth. "God, I'm talking too much..."

Spencer laughed, and used his own free hand to pry Brendon’s loose from his mouth. 

"No, it's fine. I mean, it's a little...much, but I wanted to know. I thought you were only gone a couple of years, right? That’s a lot of drama."

"Felt like forever. I swear, though, it wasn’t as dramatic as all that. Or as sexy. Oh, God, you’re going to run screaming now, aren’t you? I sound like a pervert.” 

Spencer squeezed both his hands. 

“People have sex, Brendon. Sometimes with more than one person in a lifetime, even. And it sounds like things were tough with your family and all. I can see why you might have – thrown everything in that guy. Or into something that wasn’t really different than your past. It’s okay.” 

“It wasn't really all about sex,” Brendon said. “I made Gerard wait for months before we did anything. And Vicky, Alex, and Gabe are probably my best friends now, and it wasn't -- it was just fun with my friends. It was like tutoring at first, actually, but it made everything easier. And when I started dating Gerard for real, I didn’t sleep with anyone but him.. And I'm not sleeping with any of them now, either, because Gabe's in love with Pete and Vicky and Alex are obliviously in love. I'm on a different path now." 

"What path is that?" Spencer asked, he sounded amused, but his eyes were still interested, and kind.

"I've learned enough to know what I want out of a relationship now, I think. Vicky and Alex -- I think they take other partners because they're terrified of commitment, and neither one wants to be the first to admit they love each other. Me and Gabe, we were just...lost. We came out here to go on a spirit quest, if you can believe it, but Pete – that’s Gabe’s manager – Pete ambushed him out in the desert and made him admit they were in love. I think he’s braver than most people,” Brendon admitted, “even if I can’t get him to go home. Anyway, Now I'mfocused on making peace with my family and – other stuff, mostly. I maybe want to go to school, or take lessons," Brendon said. “Something more, at least, than what I was doing before.” 

"What kind of lessons?" Spencer asked. 

"Music. I play piano, cello, accordion, a little drums – a bunch of different stuff -- I love music and I haven't played seriously for a while. But college might be cool, too. Or maybe a real job," Brendon said, and then groaned. "Why are we talking about me again? It's so your turn. Tell me your tale of woe."

"Okay," Spencer said. "That's fair. Um my best friend growing up, , we sort of practiced on each other. Just to figure stuff out, we said, but I think I was always a little in love with him. He started sleeping around as soon as we stopped the ‘experiment,’ and I should have known then but ...anyway, when we were seniors, we started going out, exclusively. He wanted to ‘give us a try.’ And I thought...I thought it was a lifetime thing, that we were meant to be. I would never have put our friendship on the line otherwise. But he cheated. He always cheated, and I was never going to be enough for him, so I broke it off."

"Do you still talk to him?" Brendon asked.

Spencer shrugged. 

"He comes over for holidays. He was my best friend for so long that he's family even if he's my ex. Plus, his own family’s kind of – screwed up. So we talk, but not like we used to. He doesn't have his own ringtone anymore," Spencer said decisively. 

Brendon patted his knee and flashed a smile, nodding. 

"I'm totally going to earn a ringtone,” he declared. “But first, I have to feed you."

*** ***

"Oh my God, Brendon, it was fucking awesome -- he said he ruined his keyboard and...oh. You still have company," Pete skidded to a stop at the entrance to the living room where Brendon and Spencer were starting the Spinal Tap DVD for the second time.

They'd made out through it the first time. 

"Yeah, Pete, and you still don't live here. What happened to knocking?" Brendon asked, carefully disentangling himself from Spencer's lap. 

"Sorry, I was just -- I had to tell you. Hi, I'm Pete, you must be Spencer," Pete said, holding out his hand to shake.

"Yeah, nice to meet you," Spencer said, shifting on the couch and brushing off his jeans before moving a pillow to his lap. 

"So it went well?" Brendon asked.

"Yeah, it was awesome. Like, I sent him the video and not twenty minutes later he was calling me to webchat," Pete said.

"What are you guys talking about?" Spencer asked, and Brendon groaned softly. So much for not being all about sex. 

"He just got together with Gabe a week or so before Gabe had to go out of town for a while, so they're learning about phone sex," Brendon said.

Spencer was already flushed so Brendon couldn't tell if he was blushing. 

"Not phone sex, websex. So much better," Pete said. "I had no idea. Did you guys have fun? Brendon, did you behave yourself?"

"Fuck you," Brendon said. "I always behave myself."

Pete rolled his eyes. 

"I guess I should be going," Spencer said, standing up. He was hunched over, a little, and Brendon could see that he was still aroused. 

"Oh, no, dude, I'll leave you guys alone," Pete said.

"Not because of you, but it's after midnight and I have to be at work at six," Spencer said, but his blue eyes were focused on Brendon. "Walk me to my car?"

Brendon shoved Pete and ignored his snort of laughter as he walked with Spencer to the door.

"Your friends are weird. And I've only met one of them," Spencer said when they were outside. 

"I know, and yeah, they're all like that. But I hope you won't judge me for my friends' collective insanity," Brendon said.

"I don't really know what to think of you. Other than that I had a really nice time. And that I want to see you again," Spencer said.

"Yay," Brendon said, letting out a sigh he didn't know he was holding. "Because I like you, too."

"Cool," Spencer said, flashing that smile that made Brendon forget his name. 

He leaned in and kissed Spencer, sliding his arms around his back when Spencer moved closer. 

"You're not going to tell my mom about this, are you?" Brendon said when they had to come up for air. “I mean, she’s trying, but I don’t think I’m ready to talk about my love life with her just yet.”

“Love life?” Spencer said, but his expression and teasing, and Brendon bit back a grin. 

“It’s an expression. You know what I mean.” 

Spencer nodded, and kissed him again. 

"I do, and I won’t. This is all mine," he said.. 

"Good," Brendon answered.. 

"Maybe tomorrow -- even though I know it's breaking the three-day rule -- we could do something. If you're not busy," Spencer said shyly. 

"Totally not busy. You name the place and I'll be there. If only I had bells to wear," Brendon said. 

Spencer laughed again, but he looked pleased nevertheless, and they kissed for a little longer until Spencer pulled away. 

"Okay, so I really do need to go before I change my mind. Also, your friend is really creepy and watching us through the window and I'm so not into that."

"Oh my God, I'm going to kill him. Really, he doesn't even live here," Brendon said. 

Spencer laughed softly. 

"I'll call you tomorrow, Brendon."

Brendon kissed him again and watched him walk away before turning to find Pete and strangle him. 

"He's nice, Gabe, I told you. I totally approve. He's hot and he's..." Pete was saying into the phone when Brendon walked back into the living room.

"You have got to be shitting me. Give me that," Brendon said, snatching the phone from him and raising it to his ear. "Gabe, dude, he's totally spying on me."

 _"You had a date, tell me everything you fucking loser - secrets are not cool!"_

"I just met him today, I didn't even know if it was going to work out..."

_"Sounds like it worked out."_

"He...his name's Spencer and he's...great. He's great and he's new and he's normal and Pete made him nervous and you're being a nosy bitch. Vicky's going to kick your ass if she finds out you found out before her," Brendon said. 

_"I'll get Pete to back off, but how was he?"_

"He's not that kind of boy. I want more than a sexual relationship with this one. I'm going to do this one right. I totally learn from my mistakes," Brendon said, thinking of Gerard. Spencer wasn't an alcoholic as far as he could tell, and they'd already talked more already than he'd done with Gee during the first few months of their relationship.

_"Sounds like you're pretty serious. I'll yell at Pete after we have dirty-talk time and make sure he knows not to fuck with you. Don't have sex in my bed, though."_

"Fuck you, I don't want your bed, when mine's just as bouncy," Brendon said. "Call your boyfriend off surveillance, though, or I'm going to hide all of your gnomes."

_"Fucker, fine. But I'm meeting this kid when I get back into town. You make a note of it if you're still this into him. Ten more days and I'll be back."_

"And you better keep pacifying your annoying boyfriend so he's not being creepy," Brendon said, passing the phone back and jabbing it into Pete's chest to try and get him to stop laughing long enough to let Brendon have a chance to enjoy his post-date high.

Spencer was so nice -- and sexy and smart and funny. And most importantly, Brendon had met him all on his own, and Spencer had liked him enough to ask him out again. 

"Sorry, Brenny," Pete said, embracing him after he finished talking to Gabe. 

"Don't do it again," Brendon said. 

"Promise. Unless he fucks with you, I'm out of it," Pete said. "He seems like a really nice guy."

"I hope so. I really like him," Brendon said. 

His decision about whether ot not to stay in Vegas for the long term was getting clearer. 

Vicky was going to kill him.

*** *** ***

 _"Hi, honey. I talked to Horace and his fiancee's really excited that you can sing the songs she picked. I think James is relieved, too. They wanted me to tell you that -- .you can bring a date if you want to. One of her aunts is -- what do they call it, bisexual -- and they're making the wedding...more open than we're used to. I .just wanted to make sure you knew that. I'm not sure if you're even seeing anyone, but just in case. I'll see you at the nursing home or on Wednesday and we can talk about it if we need to."_

*** ***

"I can't believe you did that - I mean, what if they call the cops?" Spencer asked, but his laughter only made Brendon feel warmer. 

"Come on, they were free samples!" Brendon replied, holding out a handful of the candy he'd stuffed into his pocket from the sampole kiosk at the grocery store. 

"I guess you _are_ saving a mother somewhere from an overactive child," Spencer said, taking a piece. 

"Damn right," Brendon said, pushing open the door at Gabe's. "Pete must be here somewhere."

"He should move his stuff in since he's here all the time," Spencer said.

Brendon stopped short when he saw Gabe and Pete making out on the kitchen table, though. 

"Oh," Spencer said, bumping into his back and then cracking up.

Gabe heard him and untangled his long limbs from Pete to glance over at them. 

"Brenny! Come in and introduce your friend!"

"When did you get back? I'll hug you when you aren't all – tentpole-y," Brendon said, making a vague gesture at his pants. "This is Spencer."

Spencer nodded at him. 

"A couple of hours ago, I ditched the last day's appointments and flew back," Gabe said.

"He was doing really well at keeping appointments, it was about time he got back to normal and flaked on a few," Pete said. 

Brendon was glad to see Gabe, but Spencer seemed to stiffen beside him.

"I'm going to take Pete upstairs and ravish him in my soundproofed lair. You boys entertain yourselves and at ten -- no matter what -- the four of us are going the fuck out," Gabe said. 

"Spencer has to work tomorrow, we can't," Brendon said. “He’s a real person with a real job.” Well, in theory, he could...but it would be rude to Spencer.

"I actually have the day off tomorrow,” Spencer said after a long moment. “We were going to talk about that later, I have some stuff I had to ask you. Nothing bad,” he added, after a look at Brendon’s face. 

Gabe laughed. 

"It’s settled then. We're going upstairs to fuck and you guys are going to get hot and sexy in the meantime. We'll make all the poseurs jealous. It’s good to give them goals, you know. It's my job as a music icon to inspire and educate the youth of America," Gabe said, popping his eyebrows dramatically. 

"He's always like this when he gets back from a bunch of people kissing his ass," Pete said. 

"Excuse us, I think Pete just gave me an invitation to naughtiness," Gabe said, picking up Pete without preamble and bouncing out of the room.

"Wow," Spencer said. 

"He's insane. But do you feel like going out tonight? And what did you want to talk to me about - yeah, that first," Brendon said.

"Um, I sort of, have to invite you to dinner at my house. I mean – I wanted to, but I also sort of live with my parents," Spencer said. “So, you know, lame.” 

Brendon laughed despite Spencer's nervous expression. 

"Not lame. But isn't it soon to meet the family?"

Spencer shrugged, his eyes scanning the kitchen table. 

"I don't know. I've been talking about you a lot according to them. They're hassling me."

"Really? I don't think I've ever been someone that would be parent-approved," Brendon said. 

"I like you. We've hung out almost every day and I like you more every day. Even if your friends are weird as fuck, I still want to go out with you. I don't really do casual that well," Spencer said. 

"Oh," Brendon said. 

"I'm really close with my family. And I want them to meet you," Spencer said.

"I'm...surprised. But I'm really excited that you think that this isn't casual because -- God, I don't want it to be casual, at all. Wait, you know what I mean… " Brendon said, trailing off. "And this is one step closer to us getting horizontal," Brendon said.

Spencer's eyes went dark with desire. 

"What?" Brendon said, smiling. 

"If I had known there was a process, I might have sped things along,” Spencer said, raising a hand to the side of Brendon’s cheek, “Because I want to take you up against the wall, with your legs around me and...Fuck,". 

"'And fuck?'" Brendon asked, biting back a laugh. 

"You're making me crazy, is what I mean. And I want you to meet my parents so we can maybe date more," Spencer said. 

Brendon moved close and slid his fingers into Spencer's belt loops.   
"Okay, so, I think I should blow you now."

Spencer's eyes widened and Brendon laughed into his kiss as he unbuttoned Spencer's jeans. 

He was totally pacing himself in this relationship.

He hadn't met Gerard's parents. Or any of Vicky and the guys' parents. 

And he hadn't felt like this with anyone else.

"Is it too soon? Can I blow you or..." Brendon forced himself to hit the brakes before he seemed any more like a slut. 

"If it's not too soon for you to meet my family then it's definitely not too soon for you to get out of those fucking cocktease pants."

*** ***

"Oh, God, Vicky, I need to talk to you," Brendon said, leaning against the cool brick outside of the nightclub. 

_"What's up? God, it's late there, right? Everything okay?"_

"Yeah, it's good - fuck - really good, like, I met a guy when I was volunteering and he's awesome and it's been, like, a few weeks and I'm fucking...I have to meet his parents tomorrow, Vicky and I really like him..." 

_"Whoa, you met a guy and you're meeting his parents? That's a huge step, Bren..."_

"I haven't even slept with him yet, not all the way - but...he's out with me and Gabe and Pete tonight and he knows my mom already and it feels right...it's so different than Gerard," Brendon said. 

_"I can't believe you didn't call me before this - what's he like? He's not an addict, is he?"_

"God, no. He's a nurse, and he's close with his family and since he came out with my friends tonight, I have to meet his parents and - he was out in high school, Vicky, and he grew up here..."

_"Okay, pause. What are you worried about? Dude, you already said yes so you know you're ready for it. Damn, you work fast. Why can't I find a boyfriend that fast?"_

"Because you're in love with your best friend..." Brendon said before he could think. "God, I'm sorry, Vicky."

_"Yeah, whatever, like people don't say that shit all the time."_

"Yeah, but I know you so I shouldn't have said it," Brendon said. "Back to my problems, please."

_"Where are you?"_

"I'm outside of the club. Gabe's holding fucking court in there and it's pretty fucking crazy. Spencer's talking to one of the bouncers. I think he knows him from somewhere. I'm just having a cigarette, I have to go back but, fuck, Vicky, is it too fast?"

_"I'm sure it's fine, Brenny. You wouldn't have said yes if you thought it was too fast. I'm not even going to bother telling you to be careful. Get your ass back in there and hang out with your boyfriend."_

"He's not my boyfriend yet," Brendon said.

_"You're meeting his parents. He's totally your boyfriend."_

Brendon blinked. 

"Oh. I guess he is." 

_"Yeah, 'oh'. He better be good for you, I think you dating Gerard tapped out Alex's Pez supply. And you call me when it's not ass o'clock, okay?"_

"Thanks, Vicky, I will," he said, closing the phone and turning around. Spencer was standing behind him with a small smile on his face. "Hey. I wasn't gone that long, was I?"

"You're freaking out. It's cute," Spencer said. 

"I didn't mean to. I just...really like you. And I don't always trust myself to make the right decisions," Brendon said. "And I've never met a guy's parents before."

"You don't have to freak out. I swear, my parents are cool. And I won't leave you stranded with them like you just left me with your fucking insane friends," Spencer said pointedly.

"Damn, I'm sorry - I thought..." Brendon felt awful for leaving him inside now. 

But Spencer just smiled. "It's cool - I think Gabe's been waiting to get me alone."

"Don't believe anything he says," Brendon said. 

Spencer laughed and took his hand. "Too late. Your nipples are pierced?"

"That was supposed to be a surprise," Brendon said. 

Spencer laughed again and Brendon realized that he liked this guy way more than he should. And he was going to meet his family tomorrow. 

"Vicky says if I meet your family, that it means we're boyfriends," Brendon said.

Spencer stopped laughing long enough to tug him through the club's doors before he turned and kissed him. 

"You said it first," Spencer said when he pulled away. "That means I win. And that means you have to say it first tomorrow in front of my parents."

"I don't think that's fair, and it was a question," Brendon said, a flood of relief going through him. Spencer was his boyfriend. 

"It was totally a statement and you know it. Now, come on, we have to get Gabe and Pete before they get kicked out for public indecency," Spencer said. 

Brendon caught sight of Gabe kissing Pete across the bar while a crowd of barely dressed women cheered them on. 

"Shit, if Pete wasn't indisposed, he'd be pissed off this was happening. We have to get them out of here."

"They seem to be having a good time," Spencer said.

"Yeah, but Gabe's not supposed to do anything crazy or his label's going to be pissed," Brendon said. 

"Better go get them then. Then we can get back to what we started earlier," Spencer said. "You never got your turn."

Brendon hoped Gabe and Pete weren't too interested in staying because he was taking Spencer to a bedroom as soon as possible. 

"Gabe, dude," Brendon said, forcing himself through the crowding onlookers. "Time to go."

Gabe groaned and seemed to snap out of his assault on Pete's mouth and turned toward him. 

"Why?"

"Because we're in public and you're about to get kicked out and I don't want to have to soothe Pete tomorrow when he sees the papers, so get off him so we call all go home and get off in private," Brendon said. 

"Shit, I'm drunk, help me down," Pete said, scrubbing a hand across his face and stumbling when he took Brendon's hand to climb down.

"Aw, why do we have to leave so early, Brenny?" Gabe said, crushing him in a hug. 

"Because it's not early and you're wasted and I might get laid tonight - it's an emergency, Gabe," Brendon said.

"That is an emergency - let's go find our driver," Gabe said. 

Brendon had been impressed when the limo had picked them up but he was grateful that he didn't have to drag Gabe and Pete to the parking lot.

"God, I can't wait until we get home, get in here," Pete said, yanking Gabe's arm and dragging him into the car.

Spencer sighed and Brendon walked over and kissed him, pulling him close. 

"Mm. Boyfriends, huh?" Spencer asked.

"Still want to take me home?" 

Spencer pushed his hands into his back pockets and Brendon's dick strained against jeans when he felt Spencer's hard on. 

"Yeah, as long as your horny friends go to their soundproofed room," Spencer said.

The window on the limo rolled down and the driver called out to them. 

"We should probably sit up front," Spencer said. "I know you're more open than I am about sex, but I really don't want to see them groping anymore."

"That's okay with me, we can grope privately when we're out of here," Brendon said.

*** ***

Brendon pulled Spencer's belt off slowly and unbuttoned his pants.

He'd enjoyed blowing Spencer before they went out and he was looking forward to a second try. 

"I thought it was my turn to do you," Spencer said, bucking his hips when Brendon tugged down his underwear to stroke his dick. 

"If you want to 'do' me, I'm down for it," Brendon said."

"Goddammit," Spencer groaned when Brendon sucked him into his mouth. "Get your clothes off and I'll fucking...shit..."

"Please don't shit, I'm really not into that," Brendon said, leaning back on his knees and pulling his shirt off before licking the length of Spencer's cock again. 

_"Brendon."_

He met Spencer's eyes and let him pull him onto the bed. 

"Pants off," Spencer said, fumbling with Brendon's jeans. 

Brendon reached over and pulled Spencer's face close for a kiss, raising his hips to squirm out of his pants. "Are you still thinking about the wall, because I haven't stopped thinking about it since you mentioned it..."

"I haven't wanted someone like this...ever, Brendon, do you get that?" Spencer asked, his hand wrapping around Brendon's cock. 

"God..." Brendon gasped when Spencer licked his palm and started stroking him. "I want you, too...so much...but...I don't want to fuck this up...you're way too good for me..."

Spencer choked out a laugh and kissed him. 

"I want you to ride me, so I can see your face, so I can keep kissing you..."

"You have the best plans, God, I need to find my stuff," Brendon said, biting his lip when Spencer's fingers danced over his balls. 

"What stuff?" Spencer asked, hesitating.

"Condoms, lube -- no glove no love, it's a total rule," Brendon said, forcing himself to pull away and reach over to the nightstand. 

"As a future nurse, I think that's a valid rule," Spencer said. 

Brendon finally found what he needed and moved back to Spencer, straddling him and squeezing some of the gel on his fingers."

"That's not gentlemanly of me to make you do that," Spencer said with a fond smile on his swollen lips as he wiped the lube off his fingers onto his own and used his other hand to move Brendon closer until their cocks were pressed close. 

Brendon gasped when Spencer started circling his hole and leaned forward to kiss him while Spencer slid his first slick finger inside to start getting him ready. 

"Good, that's good.God, condom now, please" Brendon said breathlessly when he knew he couldn't last much longer. He had never gotten off with just fingers but he was starting to think that Spencer was magic. 

He pulled a condom out and carefully ripped it open so he could roll it onto Spencer's throbbing cock. 

"Fuck..." Spencer said, still fucking him with his fingers. 

"I swear if you get me off before you fuck me, I'm going to reconsider this whole boyfriend thing," Brendon said. 

"Can't have that," Spencer said, sliding his fingers out and putting his hands on Brendon's hips. His blue eyes were dark and they were scanning him from top to bottom. "You're fucking sexy, Bren..."

"You're one to talk, God, everybody was looking at you tonight, your eyes, your hips, your..." Brendon said, taking Spencer's cock in his hand and positioning it before lowering himself to take the head inside. 

"Goddammit, fuck..." Spencer hissed and his fingers dug into Brendon's skin. God, it felt good.

"You get Tourette’s when you're having sex, that's hot," Brendon said when he had to pause to rearrange his legs. 

"You talk too much, _shit_..." Spencer took control then, sliding his hands behind him to cup his ass and pull him down until Brendon was too full to talk anymore. 

Spencer raised himself up until they were face to face, taking Brendon's desperate dick in his hand. 

Brendon rolled his hips and Spencer began thrusting into him with soft grunts into his mouth. 

"Close, so close," Brendon whispered a second before his vision went dark and bright all at once, his whole body sparking as he came in Spencer's fist. 

"Motherfuck," Spencer was panting into his neck when he pushed inside with a blinding thrust and shuddered into Brendon’s collarbone. 

"My thoughts exactly," Brendon said, wrapping his arms around Spencer and starting a lazy trail of hickeys down his chest as he pushed him backwards to lie down. 

Spencer laughed softly as he pulled himself out and tied off the condom before smoothing his hair out of his eyes and making Brendon look at him. 

"It's never been like that for me before," Spencer said softly. 

"I hope that's a good thing."

"It is. It so is." 

Brendon liked that Spencer didn't immediately make them get up to clean up and gave him cuddling time. 

Things had changed so much for him because of his decision to come out and to leave the church...but _this_ was what he'd been looking for. Spencer was his, he'd found him on his own and he was _good_ and he _liked_ Brendon as much as Brendon liked him. 

Spencer liked him enough to take him home to meet his family.

"What are you thinking about? Regrets?" Spencer asked.

"God, no. Just how much I liked this. How much I like you. And how fucking scary tomorrow's going to be."

"My family's not like yours. And you're not going to be their boyfriend, you're mine," Spencer said. 

"I want them to like me," Brendon said.

"I like you. They’ll have to because I do," Spencer said. 

Brendon would have to remember that.

"It's weird that you live with your ex-boyfriend,” Spencer said abruptly. “ I know you said you were just fuckbuddies, but, it's still weird. I mean, what happens when he gets bored with Pete?" 

"I don't fuck more than one person at a time. I mean, I've had threesomes but never when any of us were in relationships. It was just about sex with Gabe. And I want more than that. I don't want Gabe, he's not actually my type. . I didn't even know I had a type until I met you," Brendon said. 

"He told me he'd kill me if I hurt you. He talked to me more like your brother than your ex...whatever," Spencer said.

"Incest is tricky when you're not related,” Brendon said with a grin. “He's my friend first. Sorry, but you'll probably get more threats when you meet the rest of them. They're weirdly protective. But they're supportive, too,." Brendon rolled over. "You don't have anything to worry about. And I think Pete really loves Gabe."

"All right, if you don't worry about tomorrow, I won't worry about Gabe," Spencer said.

"Deal," Brendon said, turning to kiss him. 

He'd do his best.

*** ***

"God, I'm not going to prom, Gabe," Brendon complained, rolling his eyes at Spencer who was watching, bemused from the couch.

"I just want you to look nice," Gabe said. 

"He looks fine, it's just dinner, not prom," Spencer said. 

"You're a nice guy, Spencer, not like that last creep that broke his heart, I want him to keep you around," Gabe said. 

"Gerard isn't a creep," Brendon said.

"He's an alcoholic and you have to realize that you shouldn't date a guy that needs you to save him. You should only date one that likes you for being awesome," Gabe said, parting his hair with his fingers. “Like Spencer.”

"That's enough, Gabe, I had my hair the way I liked it," Brendon said, swatting at him. 

Gabe laughed but let him go with a smack on the ass. 

"Sorry, I guess you don't want sex hair to meet the parents."

"God, did you give me sex hair? I hate you," Brendon said, going to the mirror across the room.

"You look fine, and we're going to be late if we don't head out," Spencer said. "Stop freaking out."

"I'm trying but now I have sex hair," Brendon said.

Spencer finally dragged him out of the living room to his car. "You look good, you always look good."

"God, it's like a job interview," Brendon said. 

"You're such a spaz, it's just dinner, I swear. And then we can come back here, distract your friends with some keys or bubbles and have some more of that sex we had last night. And this morning," Spencer said. 

"You're bribing me. That's awesome," Brendon said. 

"Yeah, and you're still freaking out," Spencer said. "But at least it's cute."

"I'm going to have to sit on my hands the whole time so I don't mess up," Brendon said. "Did your other boyfriends meet your parents this soon?"

"I've only had the one, and he already knew them. So it's the first time for both of us. It really is cute that you're freaking out, though. My Mom's probably going to tease the hell out of you. You should just be glad the twins aren't home."

"Oh, God," Brendon said. 

Spencer parked the car on the curb in front of a nice-sized house in the suburbs. 

"Come on,” he said. “It's not going to be as dramatic as you're making it out to be. Just remember to breathe."

Brendon wanted to be mad because Spencer was making fun of him, but he couldn't. He was too nervous to be mad. 

"We had a deal, remember?" Spencer said.

"Yeah, no freaking out, got it," Brendon said. 

"You ready?" Spencer asked.

"As I'm going to be, yeah," he said. He just had to keep steady. 

Spencer smiled at him and popped the locks, not moving until Brendon got out of the car. 

Brendon studied the carefully-arranged flowerbeds and the stone path from the driveway. They really cared about their yard. 

"Dad thinks it's stupid to hire gardeners like the rest of the block so he works really hard to make the grass nice. But shit, I hate mowing grass so much," Spencer said as if he’d read Brendon’s mind.

"Your yard is small," Brendon said.

"Not when you're push mowing it," Spencer muttered as he opened the door. He held it, waiting patiently for Brendon to suck in a breath and step in. 

"You made it! Welcome, you must be Brendon, I'm Ginger. It's so nice to finally meet you!"

Spencer's mom, had the same striking blue eyes and Brendon managed to remember to breathe when she hugged him.

"Mom, easy. We talked about this," Spencer said.

"It's nice to meet you, too. And it’s okay -- I get in trouble for personal-space violations all the time," Brendon said. It took a second for him to process how that sounded, but Ginger just laughed.

"And you're dating my stiff-as-a-board son? I swear, he's been out of the house more in the past few weeks than he had been in months," Ginger said. 

An older man that was almost as tall as Gabe walked out with a grin. 

"And believe me,” he said in a deep voice, “His mom and I are more grateful than you know."

"Ew," Spencer said. 

Ginger was still holding Brendon’s arm but she let go so he could go to shake Mr. Smith's hand. 

"He'll never be too old for us to embarrass him," Mr. Smith said. "I'm Jeff come on in and have a seat."

"I put the tray into the oven about a half hour ago, so it should be ready soon," Ginger said. 

"Mom doesn't cook," Spencer explained, sliding his hand onto Brendon's back and giving him a reassuring smile.

But Brendon was oddly okay. The house was nice, and had pictures of Spencer and his family on the wall like Brendon's parents' house, but there were magazines and empty glasses scattered around. It was lived in, not kept pretty for guests. 

"Spencer said you were a vegetarian, so I made macaroni and cheese, or, well -- Stouffer's did, but I put it in the oven," Ginger said. "Have a seat and we can start the interrogation."

Brendon glanced at Spencer but he was rolling his eyes and Jeff was laughing at his expression. 

"She's just kidding, son, Spencer's given us stern warnings not to scare you off," he said.

"It's okay, I like him too much to get scared off that easily," Brendon said. 

Spencer grinned at him then, his cheeks as flushed as Brendon's had been . 

Spencer was right, this wasn't as hard as Brendon had thought it was going to be.

*** ***

After the uneventful dinner at Spencer's house, Brendon wasn't sure why he'd been denying where he wanted to live. 

Spencer was here. His family was here. And Vicky and the guys were still a big part of his life even if he didn't see them often. He still talked to Vicky almost every day and the other guys at least once a week each. 

He even talked to Gerard regularly. 

He had to believe that he could keep his friends and live in Vegas. 

It was time for him to tell everyone about his decisions and see where he ended up this time. 

Vicky and the guys were flying in for the week, and Gabe was planning a huge party.

It was going to be his two- month anniversary with Spencer, if that counted. He started counting after they had sex, but he'd never admit it. He remembered how the anniversary thing had gone with Gerard and he wasn't fucking it up this time. 

Besides, he was having more trouble settling Spencer's nerves about meeting Vicky and the guys than Spencer had had with Brendon stressing over his parents. 

He'd enjoyed watching Gabe methodically win Spencer over more than he should have. But Gabe had impressed him much more when they weren't sleeping together anymore.   
Gabe was smarter than most people that only knew him as a rock star gave him credit for and there had been many nights when Brendon had fallen asleep while Spencer and Gabe had mystifying debates over the price of tea in China or something.

There had even been a few times when Brendon picked Spencer up from work and caught him talking on the phone to Gabe. 

But it was nice that his friends liked his boyfriend. 

His mom hadn't mentioned his date to Horace's wedding since the first comment, but he'd met with the groom and taken the plus-one invite just in case.

He just hadn't mentioned it to anyone else.

He was still treading carefully around his family and it seemed to be working, and he saw as much of the Smiths as he did the Uries lately. He wondered if his life would always move this fast. 

He was almost hoping it would slow down now. 

He had his acceptance letter to a community college near Pete's office, and a job offer with a music store that wanted him to give lessons part time. 

"You're starting to freak me out," Spencer said, startling him out of his thoughts from the window of the car. 

Brendon was leaning on the door outside so he could keep his eye on Gabe and Pete a few yards away where they were arguing over something to do with FCC regulations. 

"Sorry, I'm just thinking."

"Feel like sharing?" Spencer asked, sliding on his sunglasses and getting out to lean against the limo with him. 

"I'm going to tell them that I'm staying here. I haven't admitted it to them yet," Brendon said. "I wasn't sure how it would work with my parents. But now...there's you, too."

Spencer smiled. 

"I'm sure they'll understand. They’d better."

"Brenny!" 

Vicky almost knocked him over with her hug but Brendon didn't miss Alex and Ryland's immediate focus on Spencer. 

"Damn, you're so tan - you look good! I missed you!" Vicky said, kissing both cheeks before holding out her hand and causing Ryland and Alex to close their mouths. 

Spencer was glancing between them warily. 

"Did you bring Pez? Cough it up," Brendon said, holding out his hand. "I'm declaring an immediate cease fire."

"Fucker," Ryland said, emptying his pockets. 

"I'm Alex, this is Vicky and that's Ryland," Alex said, dropping several packets of Pez into Brendon’s hand on top of Ryland's. 

Brendon tossed the candy into the front seat of the limo and the driver made a delighted sound. 

Spencer shook their hands and Brendon was impressed when he countered Vicky's stare. 

"You are a worthy opponent. I approve," Vicky said finally, leaning forward to air kiss Spencer's cheeks. 

"How was the flight?" Brendon asked. 

"Is that guy with the rest of you?" Spencer asked before they could answer.

Brendon glanced where he was looking and saw Nate creeping up on Pete. 

"You didn't call a cease fire for _Gabe's_ boyfriend," Ryland pointed out.

Brendon had to cover his mouth to keep quiet when Nate pounced, dropping a handful of Pez over Pete's head and jumping on his back.

"This is for Saporta's honor!" Nate howled, giving Pete a short noogie before Pete threw him off. 

Spencer glanced at Brendon but he knew Spencer well enough now to see that he was amused. 

"Thanks for the cease fire," Spencer said under his breath.

"No problem," Brendon smiled.

*** ***

He watched Spencer from the corner of his eye where he was talking with Ryland and Alex in the corner. Spencer was holding his own with his eccentric friends and Brendon was falling for him all over again.

"Hey, I'm talking to you, not your boyfriend," Vicky said, snapping her fingers in front of his face. 

"Sorry. He's hot, I can't look away," Brendon said, ducking her swat. 

"You did seem to pick a good one this time. I guess Alex has to be disappointed - I think he was looking forward for a little nostalgia threesome," Vicky said.

"Sorry to disappoint him. But not really. I get everything I need from Spencer," Brendon said. 

Vicky smiled. 

"I wish I had that."

"Shut up, Vicky, you do. You need to face it. That's what you taught me. Shit doesn't get better if you just ignore it. If I'm wrong, you can cut my hair."

Vicky frowned at him.

"I'm not coming home. I'm...going to school here. I think I've got a job. I haven't talked to Gabe about it, but I've talked to Pete. We might work out carpooling," Brendon said. He hoped giving her a subject change from his comments would give him a few grace points.

Vicky rolled her eyes. 

"Like we didn't know that already. You're happier here, Brenny, than I've ever seen you."

Brendon pulled her into a hug, not caring that her mojito got his shirt wet. 

"Thank you," he said fervently.

"For what? For wanting you to be happy? You have a life plan now, and I look forward to seeing how it turns out," Vicky said. 

"You're not allowed to adopt any more missionaries without my permission," Brendon said. 

"I got a best friend out of it, but I know I'll never meet anyone else like you, don't worry." Her eyes drifted past him to where Alex was gesturing widely at Spencer. 

"Hey, you're talking to me, not your boyfriend," he said. 

"Stuff with your parents still okay? Still going to Wednesday dinner?" Vicky asked.

"Yeah. And I'm under orders from my Mom to invite you to Christmas dinner if you're not spending it with your family," Brendon said. "I told them that I was going to spend Thanksgiving with you guys."

Vicky smiled. 

"Hell yes you are. And you better be bringing that blue-eyed baby with you. And I'll keep your mom’s invitation in mind."

He looked up when he felt Spencer's familiar hand on his shoulder.

"Ryland and Gabe are going to play popcorn with Pete and Nate," Spencer said. 

"God, no, I hit my ass so hard the last time we did that," Brendon said. It was dangerous to be small on a trampoline. And rolling into a ball while bigger people jumped around was simply not safe. But it might be hilarious to watch. "But I'm in for cheerleading from the sidelines."

Spencer smiled at him and Brendon took his hand. 

"You in, Vicky?"

"I think I'm going to make a fresh drink," Vicky said. 

How'd it go? Did you tell her?" Spencer asked as they walked outside.

"She said they already knew it," Brendon said.

Spencer laughed. "Good, because the way Nate and Ryland were talking, it was understood."

"Do you still think my friends are crazy?" Brendon asked.

"Of course," Spencer said.

Brendon laughed, kissing his nose. Spencer moved his head and caught his lips. 

"Guys, look," Gabe's voice broke them apart.

Brendon turned and looked through the window and saw Vicky and Alex standing very still inside. Alex had his hand on her cheek and Vicky had her hands clenched tightly by her side. 

"Is somebody dead?" Nate asked, joining them. 

"Wait," Brendon said, stopping Gabe from going inside. 

Vicky turned her head slightly, leaning into Alex's palm. 

They both turned toward the window and then slowly walked outside.

"Guys? Everything okay?" Nate asked. 

Alex and Vicky glanced at each other. 

"Um. So, we're in Vegas, right? I think we're going to get married, see how that works," Alex said, almost casually, but he couldn’t stop grinning.

"Oh, wow," Brendon said. He didn't think Vicky would actually listen to him. And even if she did, he didn't think it would end up like this. 

Ryland moved between them and walked up to Alex. 

"Blind motherfuckers. But at least now I get to do this," he said solemnly. 

"What?" Vicky asked.

Ryland answered with two handfuls of Pez and Brendon covered Spencer's ears when Nate sucked in a breath to yell about Victoria's honor.

*** ***

_And I'll tell and think it and speak it and breathe it  
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it  
Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinking  
But I'll know my songs well before I start singing_

*** ***

Brendon had been practicing the songs for Horace's wedding for weeks. Spencer had threatened to gag him a few times but he was easy to distract with blow jobs, and the threats were quickly forgotten. 

He didn't know Horace Griffin well, but he seemed like a decent guy. And he was marrying a Wiccan from Minnesota so he'd earned some points with Brendon for marrying for love. 

Brendon wasn't even sure if his parents were going to be at the wedding as he stood in the back of the tiny chapel. Horace's parents were still in their ward, , but Horace had moved on to a more-liberal Gentile church. He hoped they'd be there. A part of him really wanted them to see him perform. 

He shouldn't have been surprised by now that Spencer knew some of the guests and seemed completely comfortable, even without Brendon at his side. But Spencer constantly surprised him. 

He held Spencer's hand throughout the service and whispered about how different it was from Vicky and Alex's four a.m. nuptials. There had been an Elvis impersonator – of course -- that had let them bring their instruments into the chapel to play a song that Gabe had written in the twenty-minute ride to the Strip. 

By the time he took the stage for the reception, he was enjoying himself too much to notice his mother's approach, but it didn't make his stomach clench anymore. 

"Hi. I'm looking forward to hearing you play the piano again," she said with a smile. 

"Thanks," Brendon said. 

His mother smiled and looked pointedly at Spencer by the snack table. 

"You should bring him to Wednesday dinner soon," she said.

"What?" Brendon asked. Were they at that point yet?

"Your sister's worried that you're going to move in with him before she gets to meet him," she said. 

"Are you sure you're okay with that? That Dad's okay with that?" Brendon asked.

"Yes. It's...not what we believe in, but it's a part of you and you're our son. We have to love all parts of you. We've been taking everything slow, but you brought Spencer with you as your date. And it's not right that he hasn't met our family when you see the Smiths so often," his mother said.

"Oh – okay, then. I'll...ask him," Brendon said.

His mother smiled. 

"I'll let you get to work. I think they're starting soon," she said, and kissed him on the cheek before turning to go. 

Brendon watched her walk away and caught Spencer looking at him. Spencer gave him a goofy thumbs up and Brendon had to force himself to stop smiling long enough to open his music notebook and put his fingers on the keys.

This was his life.


End file.
